#so it can distract me and I can hopefully maybe stop thinking about this

[inardescere]

The Lemurian lifts his head, tilts it, and laughs through his nose. "I dress you up in my clothes, and you already feel treasured?" He teases, brushing his shoulders against his as he moves through the room. This wasn't even something he did to spoil Caleb, but just to satisfy the itch to dress him in something nice, make him look good despite the limitations of his clothes. He supposes he was thinking of the man, wanting the best for him... but he didn't really think that hard about it. "As long as you like it." No one's opinion on it mattered more than Caleb's, and if he said he liked it, then Rafayel decided he was doing a good job. Hopefully, he'll come to learn that his way of spoiling him wouldn't stop at just a few pieces of ripped clothes.

"Chicken?" The look on the man's face was another new expression. Nostalgia for food was a strong thing; even Rafayel found himself feeling cravings for certain things once in a while, depending on his mood. "A chicken is that little, fat bird that makes loud noises up on land?" He scrunches his nose, remembering the loud thing that scared him in the morning after his arrival. Although he hadn't eaten it himself, he remembers watching an old man roasting it over an open fire right outside their modest home, the flesh turning from pink to a pale white like shark bellies. The unfamiliarity of human food had made it hard for him to swallow most of the overpowering sting on his mild palate on his days up on land, and he hadn't had any human money to buy food from stalls during his walk around. He remembers some things like sweetness and warmth, some grilled fish that inspired him to try cooking them under the sea as well. Chicken, chicken... he remembers hearing that name before. It takes him a minute as he paces once, twice, before he snaps his finger. "I have an idea! It's not a traditional breakfast, but you might like it."

With a soft hum, the Lemurian moves about the huge kitchen and takes out the ingredients, handling his knife with practiced ease as he slices the fish and other tasty weeds they collected beforehand. First, he starts plating pretty, delicate slices of the greens on the plate. The fish is cleaned out, intestines thrown out, and he considers plating it whole like usual, but to make it easier to heat up, he sliced it up into chunks, a bright spark ignited into a flame mid-air; the only way he could "cook" the fish was by placing it near the flame, as no one made pots and pans where they could only be used by one person. 

"I don't think you'd survive with my eating habits." He comments casually as he waits for the meat to get tender and charred. With his stature, he can assume Caleb eats quite a lot to keep his muscles and figure. Rafayel, on the other hand, found it a chore to eat and got easily distracted. He would often get absorbed in something he was doing, forget to eat until he finally felt sick from hunger, crawl out of his hiding place of the day and beg for food if someone hadn't already offered him a snack to keep him alive. It wasn't as if he was trying to starve himself, but even when he did remember his hunger, by the time he swam a few meters back towards the kitchen, he forgot what he had meant to do and ended up going back to his original distraction. But maybe he won't tell Caleb that yet, because he had a bit of pride, too. "I don't really eat much in one sitting and prefer snacking throughout the day." Which was true! The latter half was questionable, but Caleb can figure it out on a later date. "It'll be easier for me to join you when you sit down to eat than the other way around."

Once he sees the flesh tender and white, the outside browned and crisp, he takes it off the giant skewer and slices it into bite-sized pieces, but chunky enough that they still retain that texture. Half the plate is filled with white cooked flesh while the other is only half-cooked, a gradient from white to pearly pink, so he can enjoy the taste of its buttery sweetness and bouncy flesh when raw. "All done~" He serves them on the table, motioning Caleb to sit as he brings him the cutlery. "This fish, it's called a blubberlip snapper. It's delicious and really rich and buttery, and usually we just eat it raw." He pushes the plate closer to him, a serving plate in front of him, so he can take as much as he'd like. Rafayel sits next to him, waiting for him to eat first. "I heard humans call it a 'Deep Sea Chicken' once, but I don't know what a real chicken tastes like, so I can't make the comparison." Rafayel rests his head in his hand, looking at Caleb expectantly, a wide smile and playful glint as he waves his hand with a flourish. "So you'll have to give the verdict."

he lets out a soft chuckle as the tender hands cup his cheeks, the kind of reassurance he realizes he needs constantly, but feeling more lively than before. he smiles softly at him, eyes glued to the lemurian as the growing comfort between them returns, his own hands covering rafayel's, providing ginger caresses before holding softly his wrists. "nope. i call you baby because it's cute, just like you." he teases, voice laced with affection letting go of him to lean closer and take a better look at the pout. indeed, a spoiled being, but caleb actually likes to spoil, so this behavior only feeds him. he feels as his muscles completely relax, still feeling a little sore from the previous tension from just minutes ago. smiling at the kiss, he allows rafayel to touch him dearly as he gets closer in pursue of the warmth, arms firmly closing around the other's frame, allowing himself to enjoy the intimacy.

having a better look at his face, caleb notices the blush spreading across his face, finding it completely adorable as he admits shyly that perhaps, his behavior was on purpose. no, it definitely was on purporse, and he couldn't tell exactly what was rafayel expecting from his actions when he simply was messing around. but, that's all in the past now. he is willing to allow himself to be treasured, to wait until rafayel is ready or the occasion bring them together in a sweet moment of connection. "you’re cute when you’re embarrassed. see? a baby." he teases, leaning forward to capture his lips in a brief but lingering kiss. "but hey, if you want to treasure me, i’m not about to argue. take your time, raf. i’m not going anywhere." it is hard for him to speak up his mind and feelings, but he guesses it's only normal to also wanting to explain he is not mad about it. reassurance seemed to be a common ground for them after all.

the growl on his stomach, whatsoever, interrupted completely the atmosphere, leading caleb to laugh at his basic human needs. embarrassing. but after they had done and what rafayel already heard, this should be nothing to be embarrassed of. "i usually wake up early, so this is my breakfast time. though, i can adjust my schedule for you, it's not like i have things to do around here." no more responsibilities he meant. no need to wake up early and prevent possible issues float, or plan strategies until sunrise because his ship is threatened. it felt... nice. kinda aligned with his lifegoal of living in peace. right now, he is not subject to a schedule nor he has the needs to stay alert and awake for 24 hours. he really is free to relax, laze around with rafayel as there's no concerns in whalefale city. "i don't care. maybe i want them to see." yet that sense of possessiveness still remained in every droplet of his blood. he couldn't help but wonder, what would they do? what would they say? he has been kindly rejecting others, so this shouldn't be a surprise. the only thing he wants to make sure is for others to know that rafayel now belongs to him and him only.

there's no words or complains coming from him. instead, his hand positions at the back of his hand as he runs his fingers through purple locks, enjoying the embrace, drinking on the natural scent that his hair issue as his cheek rest on top of his head. "tired?" he asks in a whisper, with no intentions to move either. he could really stay here all day, but that would be a very dangerous move. however, the exchange lasted too quickly for his own liking, looking back at him as an scolded pet because maybe he wants to keep being kissed. but caleb lets out a long sigh instead, eyes following rafayel's movements, admiring how he stretches. though, he's caughtoff guard when rafayel simply picks him up, as he used to be the one carrying others nd not the way round. it makes him wonder how strong rafayel actually is to be able to lift him so effortlessly. and as his feet touch the floor, he follows rafayel to the closet. initially, he's planning to do it himself, but he doesn't oppose as rafayel select the clothes for him and, on top of that, starts dressing him up. so this is want means being treasured, huh?

"you're reaaally taking the whole 'treasuring me' thing seriously. and i'm living for it." it is cute and rewarding to have someone that returns the little acts of service. he has never been pampered, living forever as the giving part instead of receiving. and for a moment, he wonders if he really is deserving of such kindness. bt as rafayel gets more comfortable with him, he reaches the conclusion that indeed, he also deserves happiness. finally in the kitchen, caleb leans back against the counter, arms crossed as a nostalgic glint in his eyes appear. "chicken." his eyes appear to get larger and rounder, giving him an emotional look. "but i know it's impossible." chicken is probably his favorite dish, could be cooked in any recipe, and if he didn't say he missed it, he would be lying. "well, aren’t i lucky to have the most talented lemurian chef at my service who also happens to be a sculptor?" he steps closer, brushing a strand of hair from rafayel’s face. "surprise me. give me a traditional lemurian breakfast."

[over-smiles-and-over-wine]

I'm extremely sad and rambling again and I'm truly going to try to keep this as coherent (and short) as possible, but it really is so difficult to really explain to anyone who isn't personally familiar with suicide/suicidality what miracles of songs both That Year and Sugartooth are. Not just because they're about suicide, because there are a lot of those songs now, but because they're songs about suicide that are also very explicitly and intentionally not just About Suicide. Does that make sense?? I'm going to use Call Your Mom by Noah Kahan as the counterexample. Nothing against Noah Kahan, it's just the one I know the best.

The chorus of Call Your Mom is "Don't let this darkness fool you / All lights turned off can be turned on / I'll drive, I'll drive all night / I'll call your mom / Oh dear, don't be discouraged / I've been exactly where you are / I'll drive, I'll drive all night / I'll call your mom"

versus That Year: "You should have taken a long break / Instead of a long drop from a high place / Ten years I never spoke your name / Now it feels good to say it / You're my friend again"

and Sugartooth: "He was a liar but not a fraud / Living proof that there was no God / Just the devil, stiff as a rod / A slave to a sugartooth"

Call Your Mom is wonderful and heartbreaking and cathartic and makes me feel a certain way as someone who has quite literally made the call to someone's mom more than once. It does everything it's meant to do. But it never has the same healing at least for me because it's only about the suicidality part, whereas Sugartooth and That Year are also very explicitly primarily about the people. "I missed you and your antics, you were lonesome and blue-eyed and so special to us." "He wasn't really known for breaking the rules when he arrived in the second year of my high school."

They're not mutually exclusive. That seems so obvious from a distance that no one thinks to talk about it but it's really not if you live in the confusing painful gray area in the middle of that alleged dichotomy. That's how I could tell before I knew the stories that both of these songs are by people who've lived them.

Idk, I'm just thinking about it tonight. I'll probably have a ton more thoughts tomorrow that you all may have the *privilege* of hearing me half-coherently convey because I'm going to be staying up all night listening to albums and reading BH and maybe writing if I get particularly crazy, because I know I'll be having Dreams if I go to sleep.

People can be kind and brave and hilarious and smart and also incredibly dark, and also struggle with suicidality, and in some cases ultimately take their lives, and still be all of those other things. More times than people realize those two sides are inextricably linked, too. They get it, she gets it. It makes me go a little bit insane because they're the only people I've ever heard talk about it so honestly and explicitly. Brandi especially. You don't even have to cut out the darkness to also see all of the good parts. All the innocence it took for you to finally make your yearbook.

[neeeooon]

Hey! How would the bllk boys (Bachira, Isagi, Chigiri, Rin + your choice?) React to their SO trying to break up with them bc she's insecure about not being ambitious enough and she thinks they should be with someone 'better'?

omg this made me so sad 😭 hopefully you enjoy!

when you try to break up with them because you’re insecure ;

bf bllk x fem!reader

bachira meguru

-> watching bachira dance across the field was your favorite thing in the world, but it could be bittersweet. you saw how happy it made him, and it sucked to know that you’d never feel that kind of excitement

-> the thoughts about not being good enough finally got to you, and you caved. “meg? when you have a minute?” “what’s up, y/n?”

-> you didn’t think it’d be this hard. “i… i don’t think i’m ambitious enough to be your girlfriend. i don’t have a thing like you do, and i feel like maybe i’m distracting you? like instead of being on the field, you’re with me, and that’s not fair to you and your dreams.”

-> after a moment of staring and blinking and confused looks from bachira, he jumps up and pulls you into a bone-crushing hug. “just because you don’t have a ‘thing’, doesn’t mean i don’t want you.”

-> he releases you and flashes his signature head-tilt-smile combo that wrecks your heart. “i can help you find something that drives you as much as soccer drives me, if you want! and if you don’t, that’s okay, too! but whatever it is, i want us to do it together. okay? :>”

isagi yoichi

-> after watching team blue lock play against the u20 team and win, hearing how determined your boyfriend was during the interview, watching him celebrate with his teammates, you made up your mind

-> “yoichi? can we talk?” and he starts sweating because he hasn’t seen or heard from you except for a little “congrats!” text since his game

-> you sit him down and stare into your lap as you say, “i think we should break up.”

-> he leans forward to ask why, but stops when you look up to reveal tears in your eyes. “i don’t have a dream. i’m not ambitious like you, and i don’t want to hold you back from achieving your dreams. i want you to live a full, prosperous life with someone better—“

-> and he’s kissing you. “y/n, no. i don’t… there isn’t anyone better. yes, this is my dream, but it’s a dream with you in it! and no one says prosperous, babe.”

-> you laugh at that and he helps wipe your tears away. “do you promise?” “i promise.”

chigiri hyoma

-> you loved watching chigiri regain his dream of running and playing soccer, but there were times when you felt like he was going to pass you by and not look back

-> it made you insecure, knowing he was so happy chasing after this dream that had previously been out of reach, when you didn’t have anything to compare it to. you felt like he could do better with someone who understood his struggles

-> “hyoma?” “hm?” “can i talk to you about something?” “mhm!” “something serious?” “… okay.”

-> and you tell him everything. “i feel like you could do better. like if you were with someone who truly understood your struggles and dreams, that you’d be happier. i love you, but i don’t want to be a deadweight in your future.”

-> chigiri would look at you, know you’re not joking, but still think this is a huge prank. “y/n, i’m able to run toward my dream because of you. because in my head, you’re there at the finish line. you’re not holding be back, you’re giving me something to run to.” you cried after that for sure

itoshi rin

-> though you cheered for your boyfriend and encouraged him every step of the way, you didn’t think you’d ever amount to the love and passionate rin has for soccer

-> it made you doubt yourself, seeing him so ambitious to strive for this dream when you didn’t have anything close to amounting

-> when it finally got to be too much, you pulled your boyfriend aside and kept your hands at your sides. “you are the most talented person i know.”

-> and now he’s nervous. “what’s going on, y/n?”

-> “i feel like i’m pulling you away from that when i’m around. i think your career would be better off without me dragging you down. you’re such a skilled player, rin, and i’m just—“

-> he takes your hands in his and squeezes them, almost desperately. “don’t say anything else. i don’t want to hear it, y/n, please. i can’t do this without you. you aren’t pulling me away or dragging me down, so don’t—“

-> this time it’s you who cuts him off when you fling yourself against his chest. “i’m sorry. i didn’t know… thank you for telling me.”

michael kaiser

-> omg he is terrified when you ask him to “talk” because he’s 98% sure he left the oven on and thinks you found out

-> but when you say, “i think we should break up,” his mind goes blank

-> “why.” “i just feel like you’re so focused on chasing your dream that you don’t need me… i can’t help you become a better player, and i don’t want to hold you back—“ “did i do something?” “huh?”

-> kaiser would look at you with such sad eyes, but accept this thinking that you want to leave him. “if you want to go, i won’t stop you. don’t stay with me if you aren’t happy anymore, y/n—“

-> you are confused, because how has the conversation changed this much? “what the heck, no! michael, i’m saying you can do better than me—“ “but i don’t want ‘better’! there isn’t ‘better’. i want you!”

[luveline]

May I pretty please request an emergency medicine doctor!reader x Hotch blurb? I’d love to see both of them in careers that are difficult, yet despite that they still manage to be together because they understand each other so much. Maybe something with the rest of the team as well if it’s possible 🫶🏼🥹

Emily used to think Hotch would never be happy again. She’d drive him home after work, pick him up in the mornings, and she’d think about how miserable he was, the kind of misery that hooks you in its grip, has you turning to wine or whiskey just to keep breathing. 

She thought for sure he’d buckle. When Hayley died, he’d have to. How could you not? But he kept going and proved she should’ve had more faith in him, becoming the father Jack deserves, and, surprisingly, your partner. 

“You’re squeezing me too tight,” you mumble, just loud enough for Emily and the others to hear you where Hotch hugs you a few feet from the dinner table. “Why are you trying to break my back?” 

“I haven’t seen you in three weeks.” 

“Eighteen days is not three weeks.” 

“It might as well be.” Hotch peels away from you to give you a once over. Emily’s half jealousy and half fondness, seeing him love someone so obviously. “Are you hungry? I ordered for you.” 

“Super hungry. Do I smell like antiseptic?” 

“No, just soap.” 

“Well, that’s not much better.” 

Hotch puts his arm behind your back and guides you to the table. The team squeeze out hellos between mouthfuls and you take your place at Hotch’s side behind a steaming plate. You’re as ravenous as the rest of them after your long shift; Morgan can hardly get a word out of you for the first ten minutes, though he tries, and you attempt to be polite. Emily nudges him until he gets the hint to stop. 

“Here,” Hotch says, putting a heaping of his food onto your plate with a large spoon. 

“Stop.” You attack his spoon with a fork. 

“It’s fine, you like it more than I do.” 

“Don’t care. You need your energy. I’m going to make you carry me up the stairs home.” 

He’s unintimidated. “Ah.” 

“Ah,” you echo. “You sound so doubtful.” 

Hotch looks like he might try to keep flirting with you, but he gives in quickly, betraying how much he’s missed you with a hand slipping under the table. Emily sees his fingers curl over your knee, averting her gaze with a feigned sip of coke. 

She can deduce the silent question you ask one another about anyways. 

“We’ll have dessert,” you say. We won’t skip out early. “What are you having, Dr. Reid?” 

Hotch orders you three different things, which you eat fast. 

“They’re not feeding you at the hospital?” Rossi asks. 

“Three emergency transfers in twelve hours,” you explain, slouching now into Hotch’s side, one slow inch at a time. “I didn’t have time for much.” 

“That’s not healthy,” Hotch murmurs in concern. 

“I’m sure I can ask any of your friends about your eating habits and find a similar schedule,” you brush him off, raising your gaze to Emily, then Morgan, then Rossi and Reid. Everyone smiles the same way. Hotch is caught, and his laugh jostles your shoulder. 

“Have you ever heard the saying, ‘do as I say, and not as I do?’” he asks. 

God, Emily thinks with a huff of a laugh she can’t contain, get a room. 

“He likes that one,” Spencer says. 

“I don’t doubt it.” You lift your lips to his jaw and press a peck to the line of it. One, then two. “Maybe that’s why we've lasted as long as we have. Mutual disregard for our wellbeing.” 

“And a great deal of care for each other,” Rossi says, nodding sagely. “This is why my marriages never last.” 

“Is that why?” Spencer asks. 

“You’ve gotten to be quite the lark.”

“Lark,” Hotch whispers to you. Emily, sitting at his other side, might be the only one who hears, the others distracted by Spencer and Rossi’s ensuing squabble.

“Scoundrel,” you agree. 

“How’s your head now?” 

“It’s gonna be a hundred percent better if you give me that,” you say, pointing hopefully at his full drink. 

He doesn’t hesitate to press it into your hand. Emily would never suspect you hadn’t seen one another for weeks; you move and he follows. You rub your cheek against his shoulder. He touches his nose to your hair, his eyes shuttering closed for one stolen, blissful second. “Missed you,” he says under his breath. 

Emily looks away with a smile. Hotch isn’t hopelessly miserable anymore. 

[sergeantbuckybarnes]

blow your mind (mwah) // fred weasley

Summary: No matter how hard you try to fight it, Fred Weasley always manages to slip into your mind, trying to get a reaction out of you.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Legilimens!Reader

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: banter, flirting, fluff, fred weasley is a menace

A/N: As always, remember English is not my first language. Also, Thanks to @clawaraven for proofreading this!

This was a request by anon! I'm back writing after almost two years hiatus, I'm a bit rusty but hopefully you'd like this one!!

harry potter masterlist

Born as a Legilimens, you had the ability to dive into the minds of those around you—a skill you had learned how to use from a young age, at the behest of your parents. But, if we were honest, it wasn’t an ability you were thrilled about. Yes, you had to admit there were occasions where it came in handy, but overall, you’d never liked prying into other people’s thoughts, especially without their knowledge or consent, as you considered it a huge invasion of their privacy and a violation of trust.

But Fred Weasley was different, since the moment you met the older twin his mind had been a challenge. You'd never encountered such a relentless and loud mind before. It was impossible to ignore. No matter how hard you tried to fight it, somehow his thoughts always ended up seeping into yours.

Fred was fully aware of this—of the effect he had on you. He reveled in it. He enjoyed riling you up with his endless teasing and flirting, and his signature playfulness that made your heart race each time. 

You were lying on one of the sofas in the Gryffindor common room, golden rays peeking through the tall windows casting warm rays onto the red and gold furniture. A book was resting in your lap, but your attention wasn't anywhere near the words filling the pages. Instead, your attention was caught up by Fred, who was seated a few feet away, engaged in a conversation with George and Lee—probably discussing the next prank they were gonna pull on Filch.

“Look at her… Why does she have to be so pretty? I wonder how she’d react if I—”

You winced internally, putting your fingers to your temples as if that would stem the tide of his thoughts. You had to focus. It was just Fred. At this point, you should be used to his flirting and antics. It wasn’t unusual for him to try to make you flustered.

But Fred had a knack for sensing when you were reading him, and when he glanced your way, with a mischievous sparkle in his eyes, his thoughts shifted, becoming even more deliberate, as if he was playing a game he intended to win. You could even sense the confidence flooding through him. 

“Aw, look at you, getting all flustered over me.”

“Can you stop thinking about me?” You grumbled, even though you felt a tingling in your chest—a mixture of embarrassment and delight.

“Asking me not to think about you is like asking me not to breathe,” he retorted, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “How could I ignore the prettiest girl in Hogwarts?”

“You’re insufferable,” you muttered, trying to return your attention to the pages of your book, yet you felt completely distracted by his presence and the feeling of his gaze over you.

For a fleeting moment, there was silence, and a glimmer of hope dawned upon you that maybe—just maybe—you had finally managed to quiet his incessant teasing.

But of course, this was Fred Weasley.

“You have totally thought about us… alone. Am I right?”

Your heart was pounding, and each beat was a reminder of the nerves fluttering in your stomach. You were about to burst into exasperation at his antics. “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” he replied, feigning innocence. “But can you blame me? You look so cute when you get all shy and flustered.”

Your breath caught up as your mind reeled. His gaze was locked on you. His intention was clear. He was studying your reaction—waiting for you to crack. You were about to volley a witty remark at him when his next words brought you to a standstill.

“Alright, I’ll be a good boy. I can see it’s hard for you not to peek into my mind, so how can I make it easier for you?”

“Oh, Godric!” You shot back. “You should have a caution warning. Just stop screaming your thoughts at me.” You complained, although a smile was growing on your face. The heat radiating from your cheeks now burned all the way to the tips of your ears. It was completely unfair that he could make you so nervous just by being his annoying self. “How am I supposed to ignore that?”

“Maybe you should embrace it instead. Besides, who would not like to have Fred Weasley thinking about them all the time?”

“Seriously, Fred, is it possible you could be more egotistical?” You retorted, trying to mask your laughter with irritation, but it was in vain.

“You know it takes one to know one. Borrow some of my charms, huh? And look, it only makes you more charming!”

“More like annoying,” you snorted, though the smile that tugged at your lips gave you away. “Someone needs to put a sock in it.”

“Maybe I could put a sock in it if you put your lips to better use,” he teased, his tone flirtatious, as his thoughts became a smug whisper in your mind.

“You look so good, princess; I bet you taste even better.”

“Seriously, Fred!” You were almost whining at this point, between wanting to retort and wanting to crawl under the couch out of sheer embarrassment. “Why do you insist on making it so difficult for me?”

“Because it’s fun!” he laughed mischievously. “And let’s face it, watching you get so worked up is on my list of favorite things. Along with chocolate frogs and playing pranks on Filch.”

“Nice list of priorities, Weasley.” You murmured, rolling your eyes. And even though you were slightly annoyed an involuntary smile still crept on your face. This was another talent of Fred Weasley—making you smile even when you weren’t supposed to. It was impossible to deny how he made your pulse race, not just with his thoughts, but with his undeniable charm. 

While George and Lee tried to contain their laughter at your exchange, Fred shot up from his seat, swaggering over to you, deliberately invading your personal space. “So, what’s it gonna be Y/N/N? Are you going to sit there and let me rattle your thoughts? Or do you have a comeback that’ll impress even me?”

“Maybe I’ll conjure a silencing charm just for you,” you sarcastically quipped back, but as you spoke, your breath caught in your throat at the look in his eyes. His eyes shone with an uncontrollable emotion that made you wonder what was really behind his incessant teasing.

And like if he was the one with the ability of reading minds, the words stumbled out his lips: “I only want to make you laugh, you know? I wouldn’t trade your reactions for anything.” 

You couldn’t deny the way his words warmed something deep inside you. You appreciated the light he brought to your days, even if it did come with the occasional dose of annoyance and embarrassment. 

“You really have to turn it down a notch,” you said, attempting to sound stern, but your voice came out far too soft to be convincing.

“Where's the fun in that?”

“Just think about it,” His words brushed against the edges of your mind with a teasing whisper. “Us. This sofa. Maybe some chocolate frogs. A few kisses…”

The air around you thickened, a tangible tension building.

“You’re never going to stop, are you?”

“Let’s be honest, Y/N/N. Probably not. You know how much I enjoy it.”

You fell silent, contemplating his words along with the thrill they induced.

“Okay, let’s make a deal. I’ll tone it down if you promise to let me take you out sometime,” he proposed, closing the space even more, leaning against the armrest of the couch where you were lying.

Your heart skipped a beat at his suggestion. The idea of stepping beyond your friendly banter into something more made your stomach flutter. “What exactly do you mean by ‘take me out’?”

“How about Hogsmeade this weekend? We buy some of those chocolate frogs, grab a few butterbeers at the Three Broomsticks.” Although his signature playful smile was plastered across his face, his voice was filled with sincerity. 

You contemplated his offer, and the words tumbled out before you could stop yourself. “I mean… I’ve thought about it, but… You’re a bit of a handful.”

“Ah, but I’m your handful.”

You would have retorted, hitting him with a witty comeback, but your brain seemed to have decided to stop functioning correctly, and all you could feel was your defenses melting under his hazel gaze. 

“Alright, Fred,” you finally relented, trying to keep your voice steady despite the thrill of your heart rate. “But if we do this, you've got to promise to keep those ridiculous thoughts in check.”

“Deal,” he said, his triumphant smile widening. “It’s a date!”

.

..

…

“Did he flirt with her in his mind and then ask her out?” Lee mumbled, bewildered. “And she said yes?” 

George chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. “Seems he finally aced it.” 

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Under the Stars ❤️

Angst with a happy ending, mdni. 18+. Fwb but both parties are smitten and don't know it...❤️

❤️

Eddie can't help but smile as you giggle and attempt to move out of his embrace.

"Come on princess, stay" he kisses down your neck and disappears under the covers to press kisses over your stomach. "Stop" you shriek with laughter as his stubble tickles your skin.

He can't stop smiling as he settles beside you. "Come on sweetheart, stay" he pouts and you give in because you always find that look endearing.

"Okay, for a little while, then I have to go" you try to be stern but Eddie pulls an exaggerated sad face that sets off your giggles again.

"Can I see you tonight?" he asks hopefully and your smile dims. You look away from him and there's a distance to you that wasn't there before.

"I don't know. Aren't you seeing Stacey tonight?" he blinks at the sudden tenseness in your tone and swallows.

Ever since the two of you got together you both said this would be casual, you could both date other people and that was fine...at first.

The truth was he liked spending time with you, you were funny and sweet and the sex was incredible. He has been on a few dates with Stacey and a girl called Jenna before that and he thought they were nice and sweet but there wasn't this urgent need to see the two of them constantly.

He's trying not to look too closely at what that means, until you tell him something that makes his heart sink. "Um Pierre asked me out on a date, I said yes... I mean, you have Stacey and there was Jenna before that so I thought maybe I should get out there and date"

Eddie nods. He's been dreading this since your last date with Nathan; that guy was a total douchebag and now there was Pierre.

It's not like he could say anything. This is what you both wanted right? No attachments? Causally dating. Jesus H Christ he wanted to say something.

"Uh yeah, that's good, maybe I might meet up with Stacey then" he mumbles and you kiss his cheek, then move to his lips. The kiss lingers for a few seconds then you pull away, there's an almost sad and wistful expression in your eyes.

"I should go. I need to write this report for work and get ready for later" he nods and pulls you in for another kiss, it leaves both of you a little breathless and Eddie longing for more.

He watches you leave and sinks back onto his bed groaning. Fuck. He really should have said something.

❤️

Trying to pretend that this isn't eating him up inside he calls Stacey and they agree to meet up for a date. It would have been nice if it took his mind if you but it didn't, all he could think about was you hitting it off with Pierre and tossing him to the side.

The thought hurts like a bitch.

Stacey seems to realise that he's distracted and bluntly asks him what his problem is. "You're distracted all the time right now and honestly I'm fed up with it? I understand you're totally smitten with this other girl so maybe you should just..." She pauses at Eddie's stunned look.

"What?" he yelps and Stacey frowns.

"Am I wrong? you pine after her when she's not around and it should bother me but it doesn't because I don't think this is working out anyway so it's best we just go out separate ways anyway" Eddie is still stuck for something to say.

"We aren't... I'm not smitten with her...we're just, it's just casual and she's on a date tonight anyway" he says all of this but it feels wrong and Stacey seems to think so too. It doesn't help that thinking of you on this date is getting to him as well.

"Seriously Munson? Do you maybe think that she might have felt the same way but didn't think you did? That's why she's on this date instead of with you?" She shakes her head and gives him a potting glance.

"Good luck Eddie. You definitely need it" Stacey leaves at that point and he's left alone with a million thoughts running through his head and the truth hitting him all at once.

The truth is he really has fallen for you hard and he doesn't want to date anyone else. Just you. Yet he didn't realise it until now and it could be too late.

Fuck. Without another thought he leaves money on the table for the bill and races out of the restaurant, he's convinced he's possibly too late and you may have actually given up on him. Maybe you might hit it off with Pierre and be incredibly happy with him.

Even if the thought kills him inside he wants you to be happy but he's not losing you without putting up a fight.

Your apartment isn't far from the restaurant or his place, he's hoping you may be back from your date but dreading finding out how it went at the same time.

There's a halfway point between his apartment and your apartment that you and Eddie would meet up at sometimes, it's a beautiful park that you were in love with, you fed the ducks in the pond every Saturday and Eddie liked to join you.

In fact that's where the two of you first met. He wonders if that's how you met Pierre as well or if it was at work.

The thought of anyone else kissing you and making you giggle, making you come apart with pleasure and waking up beside you, tears new pieces of his heart away.

He really was a goddamn idiot.

❤️

When he gets to your apartment he knocks a couple times but realises that no one is home. The sinking feeling in his chest weighs heavily on him.

You must still be out with Pierre. He swallows down the disappointment that he feels and heads back outside.

He's just making his way past the entrance to the park when he decides to go in and have a few moments to himself.

While he's sitting in the bench he catches a glimpse of a very familiar umbrella and his heart leaps in his chest. You're walking towards him with a shy smile on your face.

"Hi" he feels almost shy seeing you and you return his grin.

"Hi, How was your date?" You ask softly and settle on the bench beside him. He realises this is his chance to tell you how he feels.

"Stacey and I aren't seeing each other anymore sweetheart" your eyes widen and you move towards him and rub his arm in a soothing manner.

"Oh, I'm sorry Eddie" he shakes his head and reaches out to caress your cheek, delights in the way that your eyes light up at his touch.

"I'm not. It should have ended a while ago...so how was Pierre?" He's dreading finding out but he has to know.

"Pierre is really nice but um... I'm not seeing him again" his fingers interlace with yours and he squeezes your hand.

"Good fucking riddance. You're mine, I adore you and I'm so sorry that it took me so long to realise" he blushes just a smidgen and adds on. "I really hope you feel the same way princess"

Your expression gives nothing away until he sees a tear roll down your cheek. "Do you know where I was just coming from Eddie?" He shakes his head and you answer him, "I was just coming back from your apartment but when you didn't answer the door I thought you were still with Stacey and I hated that thought" you confess.

Hearing this he moves closer to you "What a coincidence because I was just coming back from yours" you're smiling by this point and he wastes no time in kissing you.

"I don't want to be with anyone else, I don't want you to be with anyone else. So let's just be together and stop with all of this other shit yeah?" You're nodding vigorously and you kiss him again under the stars, on the bench and underneath the trees where the two of you first met.

❤️✨

[faithisyours]

Can’t Imagine Losing You

Azriel x Fem!reader

Summary: Azriel’s been acting moody lately, and you've had enough.

Warnings: ANGST! but also fluff. Smut, smut, SMUT! possessive Az, whimpering whiny Az, sort of a switch dynamic between the two, P in V, coming inside, oral both receiving, some ass stuff, i think that's it, not proof read

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: Hey y’all! Sorry for being MIA. Here’s another fic as a peace offering. I wanted to try some angst so hopefully I did it right. This whole thing took so many turns. Hope it's comprehensible. If you have any requests for fics you'd like me to write, I'm all ears (i need ideas, please I’m begging). As always, minors go away. Majors, enjoy!

“I have some work I need to do at the House of Wind today. It shouldn't take long.”

You were sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast, enjoying the warm summer breeze coming in through the open window when Azriel informed you he had to leave. You were disappointed, but not at all surprised. It seemed like there was always something to do, some report needing finished or some training schedule needing tweaked. And it was always your mate who needed to do it, especially on his off days, it seemed.

“Can you stay for breakfast at least?” you asked, infusing your words with hope to mask the disappointment.

“I’m sorry, my love, I can’t. I’ll see you later.” He pressed a swift kiss to the top of your head before practically running out the door. There was no, “I’ll make it up to you later,” or, “How about breakfast tomorrow?” or even an, “I love you,” before he had disappeared.

Instances like this had been happening more frequently over the past couple years, but recently it had gotten out of hand for you. You had been mated to Azriel for over a century at this point, and had known each other far longer than that. You originally assumed that these instances were caused by Azriel being distracted by his work. Being the spymaster for the Night Court was a lot to manage. But more recently you had begun to wonder if the spark had dimmed for Azriel. If he had started to feel differently than he had when you two were first mated.

You decided that tonight you would bring up your concerns with him. You prayed to the Mother it was only because he was so busy and not because he had begun to feel differently about being mated to you. For now, though, you finished your breakfast, put away the extra food you had made for Azriel, and got ready for your day.

Since Azriel wasn’t going to be home until later, you figured you could get some errands done while he was away. Azriel had been running low on his sleep tonic for a while now, so you decided to stop by your favorite apothecary and pick him up another one. While you were out, you figured you could stop by the market and get some more wine to replenish the stash you and the other ladies of the Inner Circle had drained not too long ago. You also picked up some ingredients you would need for dinner tonight.

It was nearing noon when you decided to head back home, but as you were making your way back, you passed the shop you had gotten your favorite lingerie set from. It couldn’t hurt, you thought, to go in and look around. It had been a while since you got a new set, and you thought you should treat yourself. If you found something you liked, of course. And as soon as you walked in, a rich purple satin set caught your attention. It was perfect; simple yet sexy, and looked rather comfortable as well. It had criss-cross straps that circled around the back and waist, to connect to the bottoms, which were detailed with black lace on the hips. You didn’t have a purple set yet, and you thought maybe Azriel would like it too. Maybe if things went well tonight you would let him see it.

You made your way home, purchases in hand, including that satin set, and hoped by the time you got there that Azriel would be home. But he wasn’t. You entered an empty home, warm yet breezy from the window you had left open, and started unloading your purchases. You put the wine on the rack, the ingredients for dinner on the kitchen table, and Azriel’s sleep tonic on his bedside table. Lastly, you fished that purple satin set out of its bag and tried it on.

You didn’t bother trying it on in the store because you already knew your measurements and didn’t want to bother anyone anyway. Just like you suspected, it was incredibly comfortable, and it fit you like a glove. Exhaustion washed over you then, even though it was a little past noon. Going out to run errands always seemed to suck the energy right out of you.

You didn’t bother taking off the set, but instead rifled through Az’s shirt drawer to find your favorite one of his, a flowy black cotton button down, and threw it on. Even though Az wasn’t here right now, you still wanted to feel close to him, hence the shirt. You curled yourself up on his side of the bed, enveloped in the comfort of his scent, and closed your eyes. The last thought you had before falling asleep was hoping this whole thing was a misunderstanding.

–

You awoke to the sound of a door slamming. You sat up, wiped the sleep from your eyes, and made your way towards the kitchen, the most likely source of the noise. You saw Azriel, leaning over the kitchen sink looking out the window. You glanced at the clock above the hearth, noting you had been asleep for about 4 hours.

“Hey Az,” you said groggily, “Sorry I didn’t meet you at the door, I was taking a nap. Did you just get home?” you asked, walking closer to him. He gave you a grunt in response. You noticed his shadows swirling agitatedly around him, making you stop in your tracks. “Az, are you okay? Did something happen?” A million thoughts cycled through your head in seconds. Did something happen at work? Are Cassian and Rhys okay? Is he mad at you? Did you forget something he asked you to get at the market?

“I’m fine. I don’t want to talk about it.” His answers were clipped, monotone. “I'll be in our room.” he pushed off from the sink and brushed right past you, not even bothering to look you in the eye, give you a kiss, or look even the slightest bit apologetic for his attitude.

“I got you more sleeping tonic. It’s on your bedside table,” you informed him. You got a closing bedroom door in response.

You had a lot of patience. You prided yourself on the amount of patience you had. But it was warring paper thin for your mate. You decided to make dinner to take your mind off it, and to hopefully give him time to calm down. It’s not like he’d never been moody before, but this was a little much. He was starting to act like a teenage son, not your mate.

–

Thirty minutes later dinner was done and on the table. You went over to your bedroom door, still closed, and knocked, then poked your head in.

“Dinner is done. I made one of your favorites,” you informed Azriel, who was just walking out of the connected bathing room when you had poked your head in. He had changed into something more comfortable since the last time you saw him.

“Be right out,” he responded, glancing at you as he said it.

You walked back out to the kitchen table and began to load up both your plates with food. Azriel joined you just as you sat down. He immediately started eating, seemingly not concerned that the food was still hot enough to burn his mouth. And it looked like you would be carrying the conversation this evening.

“Was everything alright at the House of Wind today?” you pried, hoping the question came off as inconspicuous.

“Everything is fine. It’s handled now,” he offered, still shoveling food into his mouth.

“Alright. Good. I just wanted to -”

He cut you off. “Can we just eat in silence please? It's been a long day.” The words were stern, but his tone was soft, tired. You paused at his words, letting them sink in. Maybe this was just a bad day for him. Maybe he would be better tomorrow. Maybe this conversation should wait, if he’s pretty tired already. But how long had this gone on? How long have you wanted to say something about it?

“No,” you said simply. He paused, a fork-full stopped midway between his plate and mouth. Finally, he looked at you. “No, we’re not going to sit in silence. I have something I want to talk about. And I realize you may have had a shitty day, but I also had a day. I did things I want to talk with you about. I’ve wanted to have a conversation with you since this morning. So, no, actually. I’m not going to sit here in silence. Okay?” You stayed staring into his hazel eyes until you got a nod, but you wanted his answer in words. So you kept gazing into those hazel eyes until you got one.

“Okay. Alright,” he said, lowering his fork and pushing away from the table slightly, keeping his eyes on you. “What did you want to talk about, Love?”

His use of that endearment almost makes you reconsider this conversation. Almost. “I wanted to talk about your workload. And how it’s affecting me. And your treatment of me.” He only nodded, encouraging you to continue. “I feel like your workload doesn’t leave time for us anymore. It seems like the amount of stuff you have to do on a daily basis is way more than it used to be. You barely get any time off, and even on your days off you still have to do something. Like today. And I want to know if that’s how you feel, too.” You gave him time to consider.

He cleared his throat. “I like to stay busy. You know that. I haven’t noticed an increase in my duties, but even if there has been, I’m not sure if there is anything I could do about it. Everyone’s plate is already full. I can talk to Rhys about allocating jobs, but I can’t make any promises.”

You nodded, if only to give you something to do. That was not the answer you wanted to hear, but you could work with it. You wanted to broach your next point, but you were scared he wouldn’t take it well. You took a deep breath. “This… this leads me into my next point. I feel like…I feel as though you haven't been treating me how I want to be treated recently. Like sometimes I get my mate Az, and other days I get Azriel the shadowsinger. Or I get moody, likes-to-slam-doors Az who can’t bother to answer his mate in full sentences because he's too pissed off at something he doesn’t even want to tell me, his mate, who he should be able to tell everything to, even if it “doesn’t concern me.”” Your voice had started to rise, but you couldn’t help it. You were angry. “And this was why I wanted to talk about your workload. It feels like you’re getting upset more because you have more to do, which in turn makes you unintentionally take it out on me. you regard me as a permanent fixture in this house, but I am not. I will leave if I am not treated the way I deserve. And Gods, Azriel, I hope that this is the only reason, that it is only because of you working too much, because if it’s something else, if it has to do with your feelings towards me changing, I don’t…I don’t even…” you trailed off, holding back a sob that had started climbing your throat.

Azriel was now standing, making his way over to you. He knelt down right in front of you, taking your hand in his, his eyes, full of worry and confusion, searched yours for answers. “Okay, alright, you’re right. I have been acting like a jerk to you recently. And I’m so sorry for that. Truly. Work has been a lot to deal with recently, but that’s no excuse. I'll talk to Rhys about getting more time off. So I can spend it with you, alright? But how could you think my feelings have changed? How could you even think that?” His look was incredulous.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, or rather, tried to. “We’ve been mated for a century. A lot can happen in that amount of time. I thought maybe…maybe the spark was dimming for you. Maybe you changed your mind. About me. About us. And if you did, that would be alright. I would live with that, if it made you happy.” You work your confession out between sobs. “I just…I guess I just got scared. I don't want to lose you.”

His eyes were still on yours, but the emotion in them had shifted. Now they were full of anger. Not anger for you, but rather anger at himself. How could he treat you like this? In a way that made you think he did not love you anymore. He had failed, he realized. He was failing you, your relationship, your trust in him. He had to fix this, had to try harder. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said with conviction, no room left for argument. “I love you. So much. More now than I did a century ago. Every day I love you more. I didn’t even think that was possible, but with you it is. You’re not getting rid of me even if you wanted to, okay? I’m staying, and I’m going to try harder, get more days off, spend them all with you. You’re the love of my life, ya? Nothing will change that.” He pulled you into a hug, kissed away your tears, and kept kissing you until your cheeks were dry.

He kissed you one more time, hard, on the cheek, then went back to his side of the table and sat down. He thanked you for dinner, asked about your day, what all you did, and in turn told you what had happened at the House of Wind. Apparently one of the Illarian camps had started some fights with another camp over space and resources. Rhys had thought it was taken care of, but there was another fight today, which resulted in Azriel having to go over there, break it up, and be the peacekeeper longer than he wanted. Hence him coming home late and in a pissy mood.

“You’re wearing my shirt,” he stated, cutting off your story of you in the market today. It wasn’t a conscious thought to cut you off. He had only just now realized you were wearing his shirt, and basically nothing else. He had been so distracted by what had happened today and you bringing up your concerns that he hadn’t even noticed. Possession coiled in his stomach like a serpent strangling its prey. Seeing you in his clothes, even though it was a rare occurrence, always made him hard. He couldn’t help it. Your strong, soft body wrapped in his shirt, the sleeves rolled up to your elbows, exposing all that lickable skin. It made his knees buckle.

“Is that okay?” you asked tentatively. He was looking at you now like a starved man, which you knew he wasn't, given the finished plate of food before him. You rarely wore his clothes, mainly because you swam in them due to how big they were on you. You guessed he was just surprised to see you in something of his, but that didn’t explain the heat in his gaze. “I put it on after I got home from running errands. I wanted to take a nap and I figured you weren’t using it so…” you explained, trailing off.

“You’ve been wearing my shirt all day. Only my shirt.” It wasn’t a question. More like a repetition of the fact in order to understand. But it wasn’t just his shirt you were wearing. As he said it he noticed the purple strap poking out by your shoulder. A purple strap. You didn’t own any purple undergarments. “What is that?” he asked, his gaze burning a hole in your shoulder.

Before you could even answer him he said, “Purple. You don’t own anything purple.” His gaze was lighting you on fire, his eyes full of slow understanding, pupils blown wide with lust.

You got up from your chair, pushing your empty dinner plate slightly forward, and walked around the kitchen table to his side to stand right in front of him. “Well, while I was out,” you started, your voice low and seductive, “I passed by that shop, you know, the one I got that royal blue set from.” Azriel knew exactly what you were talking about. Remembered your squirming form underneath him while you were in that set. He was starting to feel lightheaded from how much of his blood had gone to his crotch. “And I figured it wouldn’t hurt to go in and see if they had anything as good as that royal blue set.” You were teasing him now, you knew it. But it was so fun, you couldn’t help yourself.

“Please, my love. Please let me see it. Let me see you,” he begged, winned. It was music to your ears. He was so hard it looked like it hurt. He had started slipping off his chair onto his knees in front of you, his scarred hands coming up to grip your hips. He was actually begging.

“You want to see it?” you taunted. He nodded, swallowing audibly. “Alright, but no touching. Not yet.” You pushed his hands off your hips, which was more difficult than you thought it would be, and began unbuttoning the shirt. Each button you worked to undo made Azriel’s breathing heavier, until he was practically panting. His hands were clenched so tightly at his sides you were sure his fingernails would leave marks on his palms.

You felt like a goddess; the man you adored more than anything knelt at your feet, completely enraptured by you, in awe of all you are. You reached the last button, undoing it achingly slowly, just to see your mate break out in a sweat. His hands were clenching his thighs hard enough to bruise, his chest heaved like a dying man, and the only thing shining in his eyes was need. Need for you, need to touch you, need to be buried in you until neither of you could tell where one ended and the next began. Azriel was a gentleman, but right now, here in front of you, he was the embodiment of pure animalistic lust. One word from you and he would snap. Just how you liked him.

You let the shirt part, giving him a nice view of the valley between your breasts, as well as the crossing straps and lower, to where those straps connected. You dragged one side of the shirt down off your shoulder, then repeated the movement on the other side. Finally, you let the shirt drop off of you, leaving you only in that purple set. You stepped closer to him, and caressed his face with your hand.

“Please.” It was barely a whisper, but you heard it, saw his lips part to form the word. His eyes were pleading with yours. He needed you. Now.

“Okay,” was all you said before he was on you, standing, gripping your hips, kissing you, running his hands over all that satin. He was everywhere all at once, biting your lips, coaxing moans from your throat, groaning over the feel of you, and you reveled in it all. His hands came around the back of your thighs, and suddenly you were being picked up and carried down the hall, towards your shared bedroom.

You were placed gently onto the bed, which was still rumpled from your nap earlier. Azriel leaned over you, taking you all in. “I love the purple, but I need you naked,” he said, peppering your jaw with kisses. You reached down to your hips and unhooked the straps from the panties. Azriel quickly figured out how to get your top off, and in a matter of seconds he was dragging the purple satin down your breasts just so his hands and lips could cover them again.

He took one of your nipples into his mouth, rolled the other between his fingers, and sucked and licked and pinched and bit till your chest was littered with marks from him. All the while, moans and whimpers poured out of you. Azriel reveled in the divine sounds you made, the sounds he made you make.

He made his way down your body, drawing closer and closer to where you needed him most.

“Please, baby. Please let me taste you,” he whispered, pleaded, begged. You gave him confirmation, that one word he needed to hear, then he was dragging those purple satin panties down your legs and throwing them across the room. He parted your legs, exposing your glistening core to him. The look in his eyes was that of absolute hunger. He didn’t bother with teasing you. He put his tongue right on your cunt, giving you no time to adjust or think before he licked a stripe from your entrance to your clit, spreading your arousal across his tongue.

You propped yourself up on your elbows so you could watch him; watch as he devoured you, drank from you, absolutely consumed you. He licked and sucked at your clit, brought it between his teeth, and eased the bite with more licks. Your head fell back as you moaned his name, lost in the pleasure he was giving you. Sooner than you even thought possible, you were on the edge of release, that coil in your belly drawing tighter and tighter. Without warning, Azriel slid a finger into you, curling it in a way that had you falling apart. He added a second, and it was your undoing.

You came with Azriel’s name on your lips. He worked you through your pleasure, continued to lick and suck till you were shaking from overstimulation. You pushed his head away, but he wouldn’t budge. He kept on licking you, drinking every drop of your release straight from the source. You were boneless, soar from overstimulation, but you could feel another orgasm rising within you.

Azriel moaned from the taste of you, the vibration making your hips buck. He continued to work his fingers into you, curling perfectly to reach that spot that made you scream. Profanities and pleads and promises poured from your mouth, but Azriel didn’t stop until you were coming again, on his fingers, on his face, on his tongue. Finally, after drinking every last drop of your essence, he worked his way back up to your mouth.

He kissed you until you came back to reality, until your limbs regained function. You kissed him back, moaning from the taste of yourself on his tongue. And then you were pushing him onto his back, straddling his hips to keep him there. He struggled a bit, pointing to his pinned wings, but you only smiled at him. “Is the Illarian baby pinned?” you taunted him. He stopped struggling, but instead glared at you. So you dragged a finger down one of the veins in his wings, and a moan slipped past his lips.

“That's what I thought,” you muttered. He was still fully clothed, and the contrast of your nakedness only spurred you on further. You kissed him, long and deep and unhurried, while you unbuttoned the length of his shirt. He broke the kiss to shed his shirt, so you turned your attention to unlacing his pants. While you worked, he kissed and nipped your neck, working marks into your soft flesh. You worked his pants down his legs, aided with Azriel’s help, and eventually he was naked underneath you.

You pressed him down to lay flat on the bed, then started your journey down towards his hard length. As you worked your way down, you liked and sucked and bit until his skin was littered with marks, just like yours was. You scraped your nails down his arms, down his sides, till he was shivering from your touch.

Kneeling now between his legs, guided a hand towards his length while you kissed his hips and rolled the skin between your teeth. His hips bucked at the fist fell of your hands on him, which made you smile. “So responsive,” you purred, then licked him from base to tip. He let out a moan that had your thighs rubbing together. With your tongue, you licked up the bead of precum that had frond, then promptly took as much of him into your mouth as you could.

Azriel speared his fingers through your hair, not to control your head but to steady himself. Your mouth was a dream to him; warm and wet and perfect. Second best only to your cunt. You hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper and deeper into your mouth until he was hitting the back of your throat. Az was panting at this point, his skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Your mouth felt so good, but he needed to be inside you.

“I’m gonna…please…I need to be inside you,” he panted out. You pulled your mouth off him with a pop, then gave him one last lick before you climbed your way back up to him. You kissed him, mainly just so he could taste himself on you. Then you positioned your hips just above his, readying yourself to sink onto his length.

Using his hand, he parted you, spreading your slick on you and on his hand. He eased you onto his cock slowly, letting you adjust to him. Every time you took him, it was an adjustment. You hoped that would never change. You both made an obscene noise when he was finally, completely in you.

“You want to be filled, baby?” he asked as he ran the fingers he had parted you with down between your ass cheeks. Yes, you wanted to be full of him, wanted to be overwhelmed by him, wanted to feel him everywhere. You nodded. “Words, love,” he chided softly.

“Yes, please Az,” you wined. That was all you had to say before he worked his fingers into you, using your slick on his fingers as lube. He gripped your hips with the rest of that hand and the other, a bruising grip that was sure to leave bruises.

Azriel was sitting up slightly now, and even though you were on top of him, he set the pace. Slow rolls of your hips guided by his hands started you off. All you could think about was how full of him you were, how overwhelming the feeling of him everywhere was. Your pace quickens, spurred on by your whimpers and his moans. Your eyes were locked with eachothers, and within Azriel’s you saw his bottomless pool of love for you. His pupils were blown wide, and so were yours.

You kissed him, hard, and he returned it even harder. You’re moaning into eachothers mouths, the only goal being to guide each other to your peaks. You could feel that ache building, that need for release drawing closer and closer. Azriel could feel it too, reveling in the way your walls gripped him. He shifted his free hand around to play with your clit, and then you were coming, harder than you had in a while, cresting on a silent scream.

Azriel was right behind you, fucking sloppily into you until you were gripping him so tightly he could barely move. He came, chanting your name like a prayer, until his voice went hoarse.

You both laid there, panting and boneless, for minutes or hours or days, you couldn't tell. Eventually he guided you off of him, pulling out of you with a hiss, to lay you next to him. He gave you a kiss on the cheek before getting up to go to the bathing room. You heard the sound of water rushing into the tub, and in the next minute Azriel came back in, picked you up bridal style, and whisked you into the bathing room.

He set you down gently into the warm water then joined you, settling in right behind you. He pulled you back so your back was against his chest, then proceeded to wash you with a soapy cloth. When he was done you returned the favor, batting his hand away when he tried to protest. You finished up in the bath, dried each other off, then slipped into some sleeping clothes and then bed.

“We’re okay, right?” he asked, pulling you closer to him. Your heart melted, warmed by the idea that he wanted to make sure.

Yes, Az. We’re all good,” you replied, giving him a kiss on the nose.

“Okay. good,” was all he said before he tucked you tighter into him and you both fell asleep.

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

hwy so can I hVe a scenario with kurt wagner where him and his s/o are in bed together. They have been together for long enough where both have been in bed with one another a ton of times. S/o notices some particular scars along his back that don’t look like they’re from battles he got into. When he lays on his stomach or side. S/o didn’t notice those before despite admiring him sometimes. They look much older and deeper and never healed properly. S/o reaches over and gently touches them and runs their hand along them. Feels a bit like a massage. They don’t know what they are from, but to them it does not matter. He been through something really bad before they waaay met? (Thinking about those scars from his circus days).

~Our Scars Remind Us That The Past Is Real~

Pairing: Nightcrawler x Reader

Word Count: 0.3k

Warnings: we mention scars but not much

Genre: mostly fluff

Summary: Laying in bed you notice scars on your boyfriend's back

A/N: Thank you for requesting! <3

***

Kurt rolls over next to you and you smile at his sleeping form. You're having a lazy day today and he's been in and out of naps most of the afternoon while you catch up on the show you've been watching the last couple of months.

You run a hand through his hair and then trail it down. He settles against your touch as it slides over his neck and shoulders. You glance from the TV to his exposed back. You notice something on the skin of his back.

"Whydyastah-" Kurt says- something, but you can't quite catch it because he's speaking against his pillow.

"Kurt?" You prompt quietly. Maybe he's barely conscious and talking in his sleep.

"Why'd you stop?" He sighs.

"Oh, hi baby I didn't realize you were awake again."

"Yeah, I was just enjoying you touching me, but then you stopped."

"Sorry my darling, I- well I noticed some scarring on your back and got distracted I suppose."

"Oh that." Kurt hums.

"I've never noticed them before."

"They're pretty old." He shrugs.

"Yeah I thought so, but I'm just surprised I haven't seen them until now."

"Do you spend a lot of time staring at my back or something?" Kurt snorts.

"Well, not your back specifically, but I spend a lot of time looking at you overall. I mean, we've even showered together, I feel like I should've noticed these at some point." You frown.

"I mean I don't think it's a big deal, I'm covered in other scars anyway."

"Sure sure, I was just surprised by them, is all. You asked why I stopped." You explain.

You trace your fingers over the scars, soft touches, you're sure they don't hurt or anything, but you always touch him with care. You can't help it, life has been very difficult for him, and all you want for him is peace.

"Liebling?" Kurt hums.

"Yes my love?"

"Where did you go my heart?" He asks.

"Where did I...?"

"I lost you for a moment there."

"I'm just thinking about how much I love you." You kiss his forehead.

"I love you too." He says.

You won't ask him about how he got the scars. It doesn't really matter. It won't change that you love him, or how much. If he ever wants to tell you more of course you'll always listen, but until then, all you care about is that he's here, with you, and whatever horrors he faced he'll hopefully never have to deal with again.

***

[system-to-the-madness]

Hello, Zuko here - Zuko x Reader

Word Count: 4 919 Warnings: mentions of: burn wounds, war, death, looting Summary: Zuko attempts to join Team Avatar to teach Aang firebending A/N: Can be read as a oneshot; Part Four of the series Perfect (10 times Zuko thought you were perfect and the first time he told you) Dividers: original by @thecutestgrotto edit by me (colour only)

“Hello, Zuko here.”

He had never seen anyone draw their weapon as quickly as you in that moment. Not even Azula or any of the special divisions he had trained with as a child. Impressive. And slightly scary considering you were fully prepared to all-out attack him.

No, now was not the moment to think about his stupid little crush on you. Stupid because he had never even really had a conversation with you yet. When he had rescued the Avatar and you from Admiral Zhao, he had not talked, when he had run into you at the north pole, you had only threatened him, and when he had gone to rescue the Sky Bison, you had not exactly had a conversation either and instead focused on saving the Sky Bison, which now, with slow and surprisingly light-weight steps walked over to him.

No, no, no, he had to stop getting distracted. The reason why he had come here was far bigger, far more important than just you or him. This was about helping the Avatar save the world.

“Hey, I heard you guys flying around down there, so, I just thought I'd wait for you here,” Zuko’s eyes helplessly flickered over to you, as if he expected you to help him out. He jumped, startled, when the Sky Bison roared at him, irritated when it suddenly licked him along his whole side. The second lick was only focused on Zuko’s face, and he surprised himself with the realization, that he didn’t really mind the warm salvia that was now sticking to his skin, and only wiped it away so it wouldn’t run into his eyes or mouth. “I know you must be surprised to see me here.”

“Not really, since you've followed us all over the world.” The reply came from the Water Tribe boy.

“Right.” Zuko averted his gaze. “Well, uhhh ... anyway ... what I wanted to tell you about is that I've changed.” He looked back up, finally feeling like he was actually able to say what he had come here for. Your eyes were narrowed at him, but you seemed willing to listen, more willing than the others anyway. “And I, uhhh, I'm good now, and well I think I should join your group, oh, and I can teach Fire Bending. To you.”

The surprise at the offer was openly displayed in the Avatar’s face.

“See, I uhhh-”

“You wanna what now?��� The little girl in green, probably the Earth Bender of the group, had spoken, immediately backed up by the Water Tribe girl.

“You can't possibly think that any of us would trust you, can you? I mean, how stupid do you think we are?”

“I think we should hear him out,” you interrupted, making Zuko hopefully look over to you. But unlike he had hoped your expression was not soft or gentle, only calculating. Yeah, okay, he deserved that.

“Are you crazy,” the Water Tribe boy asked. “All he’s ever done is hunt us down and try to capture Aang!”

So, the Avatar’s name was Aang?

“I've done some good things,” Zuko quickly spoke up. “I mean, I could have stolen your bison in Ba Sing Se, but I helped to set him free. That's something!”

The Sky Bison licked him again, this time over the back. He wondered how long it would take to get the salvia washed out of his clothes again. Was it even worth the time trying? Would that bison keep licking him if he got to join the group? Maybe he should just get a raincoat.

“Appa does seem to like him,” the Earth Kingdom girl pointed out.

“You didn’t exactly do a lot to help,” you accused, ignoring the girl’s comment, taking a challenging step forward. “You mostly argued with your uncle about… what was it? Honour? Destiny?”

Zuko groaned quietly, but also couldn’t pretend you were wrong; he hadn’t been exactly helpful that day.

“He probably just covered himself in honey or something,” the Water Tribe boy claimed, ignoring your words entirely. “So that Appa would lick him. I'm not buying it.”

“I can understand why you wouldn't trust me,” Zuko agreed, seeing little sense in focusing on your words. It seemed like you were the most willing to give him a chance, so he had to work on convincing the others first. “And I know I've made some mistakes in the past.”

“Like when you attacked our village,” the Water Tribe boy asked.

“Or when you stole my mother's necklace and used it to track us down and capture us,” the Water Tribe girl – was she the boy’s sister? – shouted.

“Look, I admit I've done some awful things,” Zuko lowered his head, clasping his hand in his hair. Really though, what had he been thinking that whole time? Never once questioning his own actions, only stubbornly, naively, focused on his goal to capture the Avatar. “I was wrong to try to capture you, and I'm sorry that I attacked the Water Tribe. And I never should have sent that Fire Nation assassin after you. I'm going to try and stop-”

“Wait,” the Water Tribe boy interrupted him, pulling out his boomerang. “You sent Combustion Man after us?”

Zuko looked back up, with the distinct feeling he had just somehow said the exactly wrong thing. “Well, that’s not his name, but-”

“Oh, sorry,” the boy spit sarcastically. “I didn’t mean to insult your friend!”

“He’s not my friend,” Zuko shouted angrily. Why was this conversation going so, so differently from how he had imagined it to go? Why couldn’t they see he just wanted to make up for his past mistakes and help them? They didn’t have to like or even trust him. They just had to let him teach the Avatar – Aang – whatever he knew about Fire Bending so he would stand a chance against Ozai!

“If he’s not your friend,” you asked, the anger in your eyes blazing dangerously, making Zuko take a step back. “Then tell him to back off!”

“That guy locked me and Katara in jail and tried to blow us all up,” the Earth Kingdom girl shouted.

Zuko took a deep breath before turning towards Aang.

“Why aren't you saying anything?” In the end, it came down to the Avatar’s – Aang’s – decision. Zuko was sure that if the- if Aang decided he’d accept him as a teacher, the other’s might argue, but ultimately not object to his decision. “You once said you thought we could be friends. You know I have good in me.”

Aang looked over to his friends, the Water Tribe girl staring at Zuko hostilely, the Earth Kingdom girl focusing at a point on the floor, the Water Tribe boy shaking his head and you, you still watching Zuko as if you could read his thoughts if you only tried hard enough.

“There’s no way we can trust you after everything you’ve done,” the Avatar – Aang – decided. “We’ll never let you join us.”

Somehow it felt like the fragile ground of the Air Temple was giving way underneath Zuko’s feet. After all he had done, after all the battles he had fought, all the pain and rejection and self-hatred he had lived through, not even the people he had put his last bit of hope in seemed to see any chance of redemption for him.

“You need to get out of here,” the Water Tribe girl commanded. “Now.”

“I’m trying to explain that I’m not that person anymore,” Zuko shouted desperately, trying not to let the hurt and disappointment overwhelm him, his eyes helplessly searching for yours. You were still watching him, but something in your gaze had changed. That cold, calculating glimmer was gone, instead replaced by something that almost resembled pity.

It seemed like you were taking a deep breath in, getting ready to speak up, but the Water Tribe boy interrupted you before you even opened your mouth.

“Either you leave, or we attack.” The boy took a threatening step forward, pointing his boomerang at Zuko, his sharp and deadly looking boomerang.

“If you won't accept me as a friend,” Zuko knelt down on the ground, holding his hands over his head while facing the ground, offering them his wrists to bind them, “then maybe you'll take me as a prisoner.”

It was the only thing he could think of to do. He couldn’t go back home, not after he had very clearly declared himself as his father’s enemy. He didn’t know where his uncle had gone to, after breaking out of that prison cell before Zuko had tried to free him. And if the Avatar and his friends rejected him as a new member of their group, then he had nowhere to go. He had always felt alone, from a young age on, having grown up without any other boys to play with, only his cruel sister and her friends. Then his mother had disappeared, and he had felt even lonelier. That had been before his father, his own father, had exiled him. Back then he had thought he had lost everything, never realizing just how important his uncle had been to him, how he had looked out for him like a father was supposed to. He had never appreciated his uncle, and now he was gone, too. Zuko would rather be a prisoner than walk out of here and have no place to go, nowhere to belong, nobody to go home to.

“No, we won't!” The Water Tribe girl threw a wave of water at him, throwing him backwards, where he sat up in a puddle, drenched and with the distinct feeling that there simply was no end to this endless string of rejections he had lived through all his life. “Get out of here, and don't come back!”

Zuko turned around, laying in the puddle on the floor, staring up at the group. Aang and the two Water Tribe kids were staring him down with unveiled hatred in their eyes, the Earth Kingdom girl having taken a similar stance.

Only you seemed to be uncertain. It was not hard to tell that you were torn between agreeing with your friends and giving him a chance. But if he were in your position… he wouldn’t give himself a chance either. In fact, he probably long would have agreed with the others.

 “And if we ever see you again-” The Water Tribe girl seemed to try thinking of a good threat, but being unable to come up with anything, she continued: “Well, we'd better not see you again!”

Her brother took another threatening step towards Zuko, who quickly averted his gaze. Crawling backwards a bit, he slowly, carefully, got up, so they wouldn’t think he might try attacking them, before turning his back on them and walking away, each of his steps making his boots squelch from the water the girl’s attack had washed into them.

Had never felt as awkward in his life as the moment he was approaching the team around the Avatar in the ruins of the Western Air Temple. The setting sun was painting everything golden, drawing long shadows over the floors. His hands were tender from where he had caught the vine, after the Fire Nation assassin had kicked him over the ledge. Small scraps littered his palms, and he knew they would keep burning for a while.

He wasn’t disillusioned enough to hope that the Avatar would accept him into his group now, or that the Water Tribe girl might heal those scraps, as she had offered to try with his scar.

All he wanted… he just wanted them to give him a chance. He had tried to prove himself, that he was different now. That he had burnt the Earth Bender girl’s feet by accident obviously didn’t exactly speak in his favour. But still- a sense of silent pride washed over him as he looked up and found you were watching him approach with a small smile on your lips.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but-” the Avatar – Aang, his name was Aang – took a deep breath. “Thanks, Zuko.”

“Hey, what about me?” The Water Tribe boy immediately began complaining. “I did the boomerang thing.”

“Listen, I know I didn't explain myself very well yesterday,” Zuko began, hoping this time his explanation was somewhat more coherent than the previous one. He searched for your eyes, finding you were watching him expectantly. “I've been through a lot in the last few years, and it's been hard. But I'm realizing that I had to go through all those things to learn the truth. I thought I had lost my honour, and that somehow my father could return it to me.” He looked over the others. Aang listening with an almost determined expression, the two water tribe members frowning at him, the Earth Bending girl sitting on a rock. “But I know now that no one can give you your honour. It's something you earn for yourself, by choosing to do what's right.” He took a deep breath. “All I want to do now is play my part in ending this war, and I know my destiny is to help you restore balance to the world.”

It felt like he had never meant anything as much as this. Far too long had he tried to play along to his father’s rules, far too long had he been fooled into believing that only the reign of the Fire Nation over the world could mean a peaceful world. But if he had learnt anything in the past three, almost four years, then it was that the attack of the Fire Nation on the other nations had disturbed the balance, that all nations needed to exist in peace for there to be balance. And he was ready to help restore that balance.

It felt like the thick fog clouding his mind had finally lifted. And if he wanted to help, he had to start making up for the mistakes of his past self. Turning to the Earth Bending girl, he said: “I'm sorry for what I did to you.” Placing his right fist against his left hand, he bowed to her. “It was an accident. Fire can be dangerous and wild, so as a Fire Bender, I need to be more careful and control my bending, so I don't hurt people unintentionally.”

“I think you are supposed to be my Fire Bending teacher.”

Zuko’s eyes snapped over to the- to Aang. Did he actually mean that? Was he really going to accept Zuko’s offer?

“When I first tried to learn Fire Bending,” Aang continued, even though the two Water Tribe siblings seemed shocked, “I burned Katara.” So that was the Water Bending girl’s name. Katara. “And after that, I never wanted to Fire Bend again. But now I know you understand how easy it is to hurt the people you love. I'd like you to teach me.”

Aang bowed deeply before Zuko, who had listened attentively, unable to believe the boy’s words. Were his efforts really paying off?

Quickly Zuko bowed back. “Thank you,” Zuko smiled relieved. “I’m so happy you’ve accepted me into your group.” For once in his life, he’d get to be part of a group he actually wanted to belong to, a group he was part of because he had asked to be part of, not because he had been assigned a part in it.

“Not so fast,” Aang disagreed. Maybe Zuko had let excitement and relief take over too quickly. “I still have to ask my friends if it’s okay with them.”

Oh no, that would probably not end well for Zuko. Yesterday, before he had hurt the Earth Bender, it might have been two against two, the Water Tribe siblings against you and the Earth Bender. But after he had hurt that girl, there was no way she would speak in his favour now.

“Toph,” Aang turned to the Earth Bender. Toph? Another name to add to the list. (y/n), Aang, Toph and Katara. “You're the one that Zuko burned. What do you think?”

Zuko held his breath, feeling his heart pick up speed. If she denied-

“Go ahead and let him join,” the girl answered in an almost indifferent tone. “It'll give me plenty of time to get back at him for burning my feet,” she added, pounding her fist against her palm and Zuko could only hope she’d go easy on him. She was a powerful Earth Bender after all, and there was only so much he could do against a boulder crashing down on him.

Aang nodded at the Earth Bender’s words before turning to the Water Tribe boy.

“Sokka?”

So that was the boy’s name. Now Zuko only had to memorise the names.

Sokka glared at Zuko for a moment before shrugging. “Hey, all I want is to defeat the Fire Lord. If you think this is the way to do it, then, I'm all for it.”

Zuko released a breath he didn’t realise he had been holding, before his eyes moved onto the next person in the group. The Water Tribe girl.

“Katara?”

Zuko tensed up under her intense stare and he was only glad she couldn’t shoot fire from her eyes, otherwise he’d be well done by now.

“I'll go along with whatever you think is right,” she finally declared reluctantly.

“(y/n),” Aang turned to you. “What do you think? You said he tried to free Appa, but you were right about what you said earlier about his uncle.”

Zuko, who had almost dared relaxing, certain you wouldn’t object to him joining the group, froze. What had you said about him and his uncle? After he had convinced all the others that he could teach the Avatar Fire Bending, would you veto their decision?

With bated breath he turned to you. Your smile from before had disappeared entirely and instead you were chewing on your bottom lip, mustering Zuko with a gaze as cold as ice.

“You betrayed your own uncle,” you accused, watching his face carefully. “We were beginning to think we might be able to trust you and you betrayed your uncle, who accompanied you all this time. We can't know you won’t do the same to us as well.”

Zuko stared at you, horrified. The problem was you were not wrong. He had betrayed his uncle. He wanted to explain that he had clung to the stupid and naïve idea that he could go back home to his father and sister, and finally be accepted, be loved. But it felt like his tongue was as heavy as lead, making it impossible for him to speak and explain himself. But it didn’t seem like you were expecting an explanation anyway, because after a short moment you continued.

“We can’t know you won’t betray us. But I trust you won’t, so you better not let me down.” Zuko lifted his head, staring at you in disbelief. What did this mean? Did this mean you really- “Welcome to Team Avatar,” you finished.

Zuko felt like a weight was falling off his shoulders. “I won’t let you down,” he exclaimed excitedly, approaching the group. “I promise!”

Before he could reach them, they turned away, walking towards the inside of the temple, Sokka carrying Toph. You were the only one who shot him a last glance over your shoulder, and suddenly Zuko realized that this had only been the first step. He might have been accepted into the group, but he still was not a part of it. He still had to prove himself first. By all the spirits, he was tired. All this time he had done nothing but trying to prove himself, first to his father, now to the Avatar’s team. Well, he could still hold out a little longer, put in a little more work.

Zuko sat on his bed, holding the portrait of his uncle in his hands. Katara’s threat from before still echoed in his mind. The light outside had dimmed enough for the room to be covered in a mysterious twilight, blurring the lines of the simple portrait enough that if he hadn’t known Uncle Iroh’s face as well as he did, he might not have recognized it.

Was he ever going to see him again? Where was he now? And if he saw him again, would he forgive him? Zuko shook his head. There were other things to worry about right now.

He had to show the others that he was loyal to them. Whatever it took for them to believe him, he had to do it. No matter how dangerous or risky or stupid it might seem, he had to prove himself to them. And he had to find a good way to teach Aang Fire Bending. After all, that was why they had accepted him in the first place: Because he was their best chance at Aang learning Fire Bending. If he couldn’t do that, he wouldn’t earn his stay in the group.

A knock on the closed door startled him, and quickly he sat up straight.

“Yes,” he called, curious to see who had come to look for him.

Much to his delight, it was you, who poked her head into his spacious room. A smile pulled at his lips, and Zuko realized having joined the Avatar had the previously unconsidered advantage that he’d get to see you now every day.

Zuko’s happiness was only short lived though, because a moment later he remembered your words from before, how you had reminded everybody, how you had reminded him – of his betrayal of his uncle. You were not the person he had begun imagining throughout all these nights in which he had felt so lonely and desperate for the faintest slither of approval and sympathy.

You were a young girl who had joined the Avatar, for whatever reason, and spent the past months fearlessly facing off against the most capable Fire Benders and the biggest army in the world, determined to defend your friends. You were so much more than whatever he had conjured up for his own comfort.

Your brows furrowed as you watched his smile fall, tilting your head at him.

“You okay,” you asked, making Zuko flinch.

“Yeah,” he quickly answered, “I’m fine, what’s up.”

“Dinner’s almost ready,” you let him know, clearly not believing his answer. Considering he had lived undercover as Lee from his uncle’s tea shop, he was still a surprisingly bad liar. “But… I wanted to talk to you before that. Can I come in?”

A mixture of excitement and anxiety settled in Zuko’s stomach, but he nodded, jumping up from his bed to invite you in.

“What did you want to talk about,” he asked, hoping he wasn’t digging his own grave.

“Just-” you shrugged, stepping into the room and closing the door behind you. “I know I was pretty hard on you earlier. You saved our lives out there. I shouldn’t have brought your uncle back up.”

“You had every right to,” Zuko denied. “I know you are taking a risk by giving me a chance. For all you know, I could just send a messenger hawk and give your location away to my father.”

“Will you?”

Zuko stared at you for a moment. Did you really think he would do that?

“No,” he answered incredulously. “I told you: I’m with you now. I want to help the Avatar bring down my father and end this war, so the world can shift back into balance.”

You shrugged. “I got no choice but to believe you.”

“That’s not true,” Zuko disagreed. “You could have said you don’t trust me. Earlier, you could have told the others you don’t want me in your group.”

“And send away the best chance we have, to teach Aang Fire Bending? I don’t think so. Besides,” you sighed and leant against the wall by the door, “I believe you. That you want this war to end, I mean.”

“Why?”

You shrugged, taking in Zuko’s form as he was helplessly standing in the middle of the room. “There’s something different about you. Makes me want to give you a chance.”

Zuko nodded, watching as you absentmindedly reached for the fire pendant on the leather strap around your neck. He had seen you wear it before, that time he had gotten you out of Zhao’s prison.

“Are you Fire Nation,” he asked before he had even thought his question through.

“What makes you say that,” you asked back, almost defensively now.

“The pendant,” he explained. “You wore it when I got you and the Avatar out of Zhao’s prison.”

“His name’s Aang.”

“What?”

“The Avatar’s name. It’s Aang,” you repeated.

“Oh, yeah. I know.”

“Then use it. But you’re right. I’m Fire Nation,” you answered. “Or at least I was born as Fire Nation. My family moved to one of the new colonies when I was very little, but my dad died shortly after.”

“I’m sorry,” Zuko mumbled. He knew what it was like to lose a parent.

“It was awful,” you agreed. “He got very sick, and there was nothing the doctors could do. A while after, my mum remarried, a man from the Earth Kingdom, and we moved away from the colony. We had to hide we were Fire Nation, but we were happy. At least until my brother died. He died in the war. He stayed behind in Yu Dao and joined the Fire Nation army.”

Zuko watched how you tensed up, your hand tightly closed around the pendent now. “He gave me this,” you added, lifting your fist. “It’s the only thing I have left of my family. And he died for nothing.”

“Don’t say that,” Zuko disagreed. “I’m sure that through his sacrifice he saved others. It’s little comfort but-”

“No,” you shook your head. “His whole unit got wiped out. The whole 41rst.”

Zuko froze. The 41rst? The unit he had tried to speak up for in his father’s war council? The unit he had tried to protect and been sent to an Agni Kai for, been exiled for? He wanted to tell you, wanted to tell you that he had tried to speak up against the unit’s sacrifice, but he kept the knowledge to himself. It made no difference whether you knew or not. And even if you would believe him, it was too early to share this fact with you. Instead, he just swallowed thickly.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated.

“You weren’t the one slaughtering him, were you,” you asked, shaking your head with a sigh. “It only got worse after that. Last year the Fire Nation attacked out village. I was in the forest, so I wasn’t there when they burnt down the house. They killed both my mother and my stepfather. I don’t know what happened to my sister.”

“You have a sister?”

“Have, had, I don’t know. She might be dead for all I know. If she’s not, she’s probably with the Fire Nation now. She’s my half-sister. If she’s alive, she’d be six now.”

“Why did the Fire Nation attack your village,” Zuko asked, trying not to picture what the Fire Nation would do to the children of the enemy.

“I think they were just claiming new territory. They never cared how many people they had to kill in order to advance with their plan to take over the world.”

Zuko lowered his head. He had been so oblivious all these years, never caring about anybody other than himself, refusing to see the destruction his father’s plans rained on the world.

“You’ve been through a lot,” he admitted, lifting his head again to look at you. Your hair was falling down past your shoulders, unbound now and reflecting the blue light of the evening. You looked eternal in the twilight, and even though pain was swimming in your eyes, Zuko could also see the strength it had taken you to keep fighting all the time. He admired your resilience, he admired you. You were perfect in his eyes, strong and still gentle, hurt so many times but never bitter, a fighter, who after all the evil you had seen still believed in the good in people. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have given him a chance.

“We all have been through a lot,” you replied. “You too, you said so yourself.”

Zuko nodded. “But it feels like all the bad things in my life were something I caused myself. Your family has been a playball of my father’s.”

“I don’t believe that you are to blame for all the bad things that happened to you,” you disagreed. “You – just like all of us – are just a product of the adults who raised you. And-”

You got interrupted by a voice shouting for you.

“Dinner’s ready!”

“That’s Sokka,” you concluded. “Let’s go, before he and Aang finish everything before we even get a chance.” You pushed away from the wall and opened the door before turning to Zuko again. “Don’t be too harsh on yourself,” you told him. “And don’t focus too much on the past. There’s nothing you can change about it now. Help us change the future instead.”

And with those words you slipped out of the room, leaving Zuko wondering whether his uncle’s spirit had possessed you there for a moment before he quickly hurried after you, looking forward to whatever there would be served for dinner.

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♦️Pardon The Way That I Stare♦️

Chapter 8 of That's What You Get

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Summary: After some encouragement from Emily and Penelope, you try to explain your reaction to Reid at work. Until you find yourself reacting to him more and more, distracting you from doing your job. Warnings: Alcohol consumption, mentions of sex, Reader is just really horny for Reid (REAL). A/N: We're getting closer to the climax and I'm SO beyond excited for everyone to read the next chapter because I think it's going to be so good but also so evil and I enjoy that very much. If you like the series, let me know by dropping a message in the replies or in my inbox, and follow my other account @reiderslibrary for just fics from me without my random thoughts and bullshit in between... You can find masterlist here, and the series masterlist is linked here!

You were stupid, there was no other logical explanation for it. Staring at Emily on your doorstep as your brain stood there, slack-jawed and wide-eyed, trying to process the words she’d just said to you, there was really only one thing running through your brain.

“I’m a fucking dumbass.” you groaned, your hands coming up to your head as you pondered your next move.

“There’s no chance that you’ll believe this was all just one practical joke that I’ve been playing to test how quickly you could turn up at my place with wine?” You looked up hopefully at Emily, and she returned with a concerned look of her own, that silently communicated ‘No, I wasn’t born yesterday.’

“Worth a shot, come on in.” You opened the door wider for Emily and grabbed a second glass from your kitchen to share the wine before she could start her interrogation.

“So,” she prompted as soon as you returned to the couch, and you sighed heavily as you nodded and began.

“I married Reid in Vegas.”

“Yes, I got that from the text, what I didn’t get was why, what, when, where, who, and how! Question words, Y/N, important information if you please.” You chuckled at Emily’s tone, and you melted a little into your couch. Just like with Penelope, letting others know had comforted you. You’d never been one to bottle up your emotions, and you couldn’t exactly tell Spencer how you felt about him, so your dearest FBI-assigned best friends were a welcome compromise.

“You promise not to tell anyone? Penelope knows, and so does Rossi, but no one else does. Well maybe someone else but I don’t know who that someone is - long story.” You rambled, still aware of the promise you’d made with Spencer, and knowing that you’d actually broken it twice now.

“Scouts honor, now get on with it.”

“You were never a scout.”

“That’s beside the point, Y/N, now spill!”

“Do you remember when we finished the case in Vegas last weekend, and we all wanted nothing more than to go home, but the jet was landed?” A small nod encourages you to continue. “Well, Reid offered to show me this bar that he thought I’d enjoy, and honestly, I’d had a tense phone call with my mom and was feeling a bit crappy, so I thought a drink wouldn’t hurt.”

“A drink might get you married though.” You glared at her at the interruption, and she held her hands up in surrender as you continued.

“The bar was amazing, and he noticed I was feeling down, and I don’t know, he just has this way of making me feel calm and fully together. I was a mess earlier that day, but with like one short conversation, he kind of turned my mood entirely around.” You flushed then and decided to ignore Emily’s next interjection.

“Oh god…”

“Apparently after that, we went to a casino or another bar or something, but honestly, I drank so much I don’t remember any of that. But at some point, we bought a very expensive engagement ring, made our way to the Bureau for Wedding Licences and then a chapel and now we’re legally married.” You tried to end your story there, but Emily wasn’t having that.

“No, you’re not stopping there. You said you kissed, and you ruined everything, and you mentioned a wedding night in that text, do not shortchange me now, Y/L/N. Wait, should I be calling you Reid now?” She grinned at the flush that coated your entire body with that, and you buried your head in your pillows.

“Okay, okay. Well, we’re trying to figure out who the witnesses to our wedding were. We know that two team members were there, and Penelope was one of them, but Spencer doesn’t know that yet. Again, another long story.” You let your words sink in as you realize the tangled mess you’d spun for yourself in the last week.

“We spent some time researching our options on Saturday night, to see if we could get our memories to come back and I might not have left until a couple hours ago?”

“Y/N! You’ve been banging Reid for the last three days?”

“No! No, nothing like that, we didn’t- well, we did just not at his house, but also I don’t think you want to hear about that.” You spilled all the details about your last few days with Reid, his touches, his care, the dates you’d been on, the way you’d wrapped yourself around each other in your sleep, but still woken up to an empty bed, all the way up to that fateful kiss and your stupid reaction.

“So there, I’ve ruined it.” Emily looked at you pityingly and started to say something when your doorbell rang a second time.

“That’s reinforcements,” Emily said, standing and moving to greet the newcomer herself. You were relieved when Penelope Garcia came marching through the door, ice cream in hand and mouth already moving.

“Have no fear, your guardian angel is here. Emily texted me en route and I disentangled myself from my plans with a now very suspicious Derek Morgan to race over here. I think I managed to throw him off the scent by mentioning my ukelele lessons with Sam though, he always kinda glazes over whenever I go into heavy details about that.” She perches herself on the couch beside you and starts organizing things on the table, pulling out three tubs of ice cream and locating adequate spoons in the drawer.

“Pen, you didn’t have to do all this…”

“Yes, I did. Emily tell her I did. I need all the details that you suddenly remembered Y/N or I’m going to go crazy, and let me tell you, I am not an effective tech analyst when my mind is all aflutter with wonder.” You smiled awkwardly at the situation. You’d glossed over the details of your wedding night with Emily, going no further than insinuating that you’d had sex, but now the pressure was on.

“We just want to help you, Y/N. And we’re morbidly curious.” Emily joined in. Both of their eyes were trained on you in a hopeful expression, leaving the ball firmly in your court as you fought down the embarrassment rising from the back of your throat.

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath.

“I think it was the best sex I’ve ever had in my life,” was all you managed to squeak out before they were reacting, asking twenty questions each in the space of a minute as your body both caught fire at the memory and shrunk down to the size of an ant at the attentions.

“Calm down, calm down, I’ll tell you more but you have to calm down.” They stilled themselves and bit their tongue, and you continued.

“Well I don’t want to get into the, uh, specific details, but let’s just say that he’s very good at putting theory into practice. That or he’s actually very experienced in sex and nobody ever realized, because the things he was doing were like, expert-level maneuvers. I didn’t think I was that flexible until he was hitting from-”

“OKAY not that much detail, this is still Reid we’re talking about.”

“Sorry,” you giggled sheepishly and decided to spare them all the details. “All I’ll say is that we both finished multiple times. And I might have stupidly let him finish inside of me.”

“Y/N, you should know better! Safe sex is really important, especially if you’re fucking in a hotel room in Vegas.” Emily half-chastised you, but you could hear the humor in her voice and just rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t exactly having sex with a stranger, I was having sex with my husband.” That got you a teasing cooing from the two women and you buried your face in your hands again.

“So he’s your husband now, is he? How long have you been married? Like three days?”

“Five. Fuck, we’re running out of time.” The length of time that had elapsed since you’d walked down the aisle shocked you as soon as you’d acknowledged it, and you downed your glass of wine as your brain ran rampant.

“Rossi said that if we didn’t tell everyone in a week, he’d do it for us so we didn’t lose our jobs, and we need to file for an annulment soon so we don’t have to get a divorce but there’s like… a one week window, and it’s already been five days. Shit. shit shit shit shit.”

“Hold on, Y/N, you said he kissed you earlier today, right? I wouldn’t exactly recommend getting married and then dating your partner, but it sounds like you both at least like each other enough to pursue this relationship, why would you need an annulment?” Emily’s confusion only served to remind you of the reason they were both here in the first place.

“That’s the problem. I think he thinks I don’t like him like that. And it’s totally my fault that he thinks that, because when he kissed me I didn’t react well and then he just left, and I think I ruined everything.”

“Define not reacting well,” Emily probed further.

“I pushed him away and slammed the door in his face. But that was only because I remembered everything that happened between us on our wedding night, and remembering the most satisfying experience of your entire existence while face-to-face with the man who you’d hitherto never thought capable of that, and having it occur in like 0.02 of a second is a paralyzing experience.”

“Oh my god, you’re an idiot,” Penelope whispered from her side of the couch and you nodded heartily in agreement.

“And what, he just left?” Emily asked again, tone incredulous with all the information she was receiving.

“Well when I’d had my moment and realized what I’d done, I opened the door again and he wasn’t there. And that was only like a minute later. He messaged me this after he left.” You grabbed your phone and opened it up, showing the girls the message and noting their winces in reaction to his words.

“It’s bad, right?”

“No! No, this is salvageable! You just have to… be brave?” Penelope didn’t seem to believe her own words as you pulled your phone back and poured yourself another glass, ready to drown your sorrows once again. Emily was a little more confident.

“Okay. Here’s what you do. I’m going to talk to Rossi for you tomorrow morning at work, get him to hold off on his big reveal while you go and explain everything to Spencer. How does that sound?”

“That sounds doable, I guess.” You sniffled a little, rereading the text having made your emotions jump back up to the surface again as you fought off tears.

“Brilliant. And then you can stay married and continue having wonderful sex, and make some genius babies and make me their godmother.” You threw a pillow at Penelope that she was just too slow to catch, and filled the rest of your evening with wine, ice cream, and good company.

–X–

Emily sends you a thumbs-up text after she talks to Rossi the next morning, and a weight falls off your shoulder. One step down, one to go right?

You’d arrived at work probably a little bit too early, having spent the night tossing and turning and playing every possible outcome in your mind over and over again. It had been half an hour before the next person turned up, and Hotch had only given you a confused half-nod in greeting before secluding himself in his office. Rossi had been the next to arrive, about twenty minutes later, and he too had questioned your presence but not in so many words.

“Early morning, Y/N? Settling into new routines in your newly-wed life, are we?” You’d stuttered out an answer but he was halfway up the stairs by the time you finished, obviously meaning the comment to be rhetorical.

Morgan, Emily, and JJ were all next, showing up only a few minutes before your shift officially started, but there was no sign of Reid, and you were running out of time - and privacy - to talk to him.

Then at 9 sharp the elevator doors opened, and from your seat at your desk, you watched him step out, feeling your tongue grow thick and your heart beat faster as he made his way into the office. This wasn’t how you were supposed to feel, this was cartoonish like a teenage boy in a brat pack movie watching the hottest girl in the school walk down a corridor. This was Spencer, your husband, and your best friend, and here you were feeling giggly and shy.

You almost felt like texting Emily back, telling her if you started giggling and twirling your hair, to take you out back and put you out of your misery.

He didn’t make eye contact with you as he settled into his morning routine, pulling off his scarf, putting his bag away, and then moving to the kitchen to fill up on his morning coffee. You did your best to covertly follow him, trying not to alert the others to your heart eyes as you looked at him and forgot everyone else.

“Spencer, can we talk?” You blocked off the entry to the kitchen as he spun around to face you, a bittersweet smile playing on his lips.

“Sure, Y/N, what’s up?” His voice didn’t betray any of his emotions, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes, and you could tell you’d hurt him the day before. You took a deep breath and walked closer to him as he continued making his coffee, again refusing to look you in the eyes as he continued as normal.

“It’s about yesterday-”

“We probably shouldn’t talk about this here, right?” He cut you off in a whisper, his voice sending shivers down your spine as you gripped the countertop beside him for support. You’d gotten closer than you expected at first, somehow magnetically drawn to him, your body language just as open to him as he was closed to you.

“I think we need to, Spence. I’m sorry, I panicked.”

“No, it’s my fault, I shouldn’t have done that-”

“Spencer I got my memory back.” His eyes widened and he blossomed in front of you again, attention entirely on you now as he took in your words.

“You did?”

“Partially, only the… Only the memories of your hotel room.” His eyes darkened in understanding, moving unconsciously closer to you, placing a hand next to yours on the counter as he effectively trapped your body in.

“Oh. Those memories.”

“Yeah. So you can see why I was a bit distracted.” He nodded at your words, but he was still coming closer to you now. Your body felt weak underneath you, entirely reacting to his closeness, the warmth rolling off his body, the electricity sparking between you despite him not touching you anywhere.

“Distracted?” His eyes darted to your lips as he grew closer, and your legs chose that exact second to give in underneath you.

Your knees hit the ground uncomfortably, as he reacted to your sudden movement, trying to grab you and pull you up, but only managing to grab the hand that was already holding the counter above you, awkwardly twisting and pinning your arm up.

“Oh my god. Oh my god, I’m sorry, I think… I think I should go,” you were face to face with his crotch, and looking up at him in that position was certainly giving you unwholesome thoughts. He jumped back as you scrambled out from underneath him, begging whatever god was out there that none of the profilers you worked with would question the dazed state that would follow you for the rest of the day.

–X–

Despite your need to straighten things out with Spencer, you’d avoided him for the rest of the day, and, having been called out on a case, you spent the better part of the week avoiding him as well. After literally falling for him, you’d decided that maybe in your newly weakened lovesick stage, it was best for everyone on the team that you try to stay as clear-headed as possible.

Not everyone on the team, though, agreed. He’d trailed after you like a lost puppy for days now, and you wanted nothing more than to give in and throw yourself in his arms. But there was a murderer on the loose and you needed to give your entire attention to it.

He’d tried multiple times to get you to help him with some work, suggesting that you go through some files together, or check out one of the witnesses together, much to your discomfort. Luckily, Hotch had picked up on some of the discomfort between the two of you and had kept you somewhat apart, not asking questions.

But the last night on the case, he’d cornered you, and you had to work twice as hard to extricate yourself from the situation.

“Y/N, why are you avoiding me?” He’d caught you alone in the hotel lobby, pulling you into a dark corner without much foot traffic to confront you. “Is it because of the kiss? Because the way you talked about getting your memories back the other day made me think we were okay about that again, but if we’re not then I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable.”

“It’s not the kiss, Spence, and we really shouldn’t be talking about this here.” You tried to turn and leave, but he grabbed your elbow and spun you back into him, bodies pressed flush up against each other now.

“Spencer let go, someone could see us.” Even you knew your voice sounded half-hearted, not really wanting him to stop touching you at all.

“If it’s not the kiss, then why are you acting like I don’t exist?” His face was close again, and you felt your body reacting the same way it had done in the staff kitchen. Your knees went weak again, but he was prepared this time, holding you up in his arms, gently maneuvering you so you were pinned against the wall.

“Is this it?” He asked, letting his hands trail over your body as you whimpered under his touch. “Your reactions?”

Your brain was empty of a response, so you just held still, desperate to see what he would do or say next.

“You know, the deadline on our annulment has passed. It’s been over a week now,” he said, his forehead resting on yours as he brought his hips ever closer.

You were the one that gave in first, pushing your head up to capture his lips in a crushing kiss, needing him the way you needed water, food, and sleep. You’d deprived yourself for so long, and now you were hungry, ravenous, and he was the same. Your lips opened, and soon his tongue was snaking in, caressing you in ways both familiar and new, and your entire body heated up to its boiling point.

You moaned under his touch as his hands wandered, silently begging for more of him. Your brain only kicked back into gear when you registered the sound of voices about to turn the corner. Quickly pushing him off, you pulled yourself together just as JJ and Morgan found you there.

“Y/N, Reid, Garcia got a positive ID on our unsub, we’re about to go SWAT his house, get your gear ready.”

Either you were very good at masking your emotions and the physical outburst you’d just shared, or Morgan was just too caught up in getting his job done that he didn’t look too closely at the way Reid’s tie was half undone, your lips were pink and swollen and that both of you were breathing abnormally. Whichever it was, you were just thankful that neither of them questioned you as you all left to go and do your job.

–X–

To your detriment, you’d avoided him on the jet back as well, choosing to wrap a blanket around yourself and sit in a single seat at the end of the plane rather than risk his hands on you again like last time. You already couldn’t be trusted around him, and you wanted to take no risks with everyone else present.

He’d sat in your line of vision purposefully though, making eye contact every now and then to remind you that he was still watching you. You’d feigned exhaustion and pretended to sleep in the end, despite the flight duration only being a measly two hours. He’d let you exit the plane alone though, and said a general goodbye to the team upon landing, giving you a second look and wave before taking himself home.

The ball was firmly in your court.

“What the hell was all that?” Emily whispered in your ear as you both watched him leave alone. “What happened to the plan?” You smiled awkwardly, not wanting to admit how fucking horny the man made you feel, and how it was affecting your work performance so badly that avoiding him was the only way to keep your job.

“We had the talk, everything’s fine.”

“The two of you aren’t walking out of here hand in hand, so obviously everything is not fine, Penelope, tell me I’m wrong.” The other woman had stumbled into the bullpen upon landing and Emily had immediately drawn her into your hushed conversation as soon as Morgan had made to go home as well.

“What’s going on, hot stuff, I thought you’d be enjoying every second of your marital bliss by now.”

“He’s too distracting.” You whisper shouted at him. “He kissed me again last night and I almost let him take me in the lobby. And Morgan and JJ almost caught us, so yeah, he’s too distracting.”

“Oh god, you’re horny for Reid.” Emily laughed slightly at the implication as if it had just dawned on her and you hadn’t had an entire conversation where you fawned about how good in bed he was.

“Yes, I’m horny for Reid, okay, now please stop laughing, I’m in pain.”

“Well you know there’s only one solution, right?” Penelope said as if it were clear as day. “You need to go have sex with him again. See if you can be normal with him when you’re not so pent up.”

“I don’t know, Pen….” You were still staring at the elevator doors, even after it had been so long since he’d left.

“What is there to not know? You like him, he likes you, you’re married. Like you said before, it’s not like you’re having sex with a stranger, he’s your husband.” Having your words thrown back in your face gave you the boost of confidence that you needed, and you sprang from your chair.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Emily repeated and you looked back down at the two women.

“Okay, I’m gonna… I’m gonna go seduce my husband, I guess?” You turned on your heel and left, marching out to the sounds of whoops and cheers from the two women behind you.

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[wileys-russo]

aitana bonmati, “we can’t get a cat”, mapis apartment

Maybe w a corporate y/n?

not helping II a.bonmatí

"so you are done travelling for the year now?" ingrid questioned from where you stood next to her washing up the dishes from lunch. "hopefully! that conference should have been the last." you sighed, forever popping in and out of the country for work.

"tana will be happy, she becomes miserable when you travel." ingrid rolled her eyes making you smile, knowing exactly how grumpy your girlfriend became when you weren't around.

"i know, i get about a hundred texts an hour demanding i come back home because she misses me." you grinned affectionately, though you knew deep down she'd be far more upset with you if you listened to her and returned, knowing how important your work really was to you.

"tana!" you blushed as suddenly her hand smacked your ass as she walked past, returning from the bathroom. "stop talking about me amor." your girlfriend warned with a smile, joining mapi back in the living room.

"hey! like you can talk." you shoved the norweigen beside you who made a whipping noise with her mouth and flicked her hand. "i am not the one who is whipped, maría is." ingrid grinned, drying her hands as you placed the final plate in the dry rack.

"oh really?" you grabbed the taller girls hand, tapping the small m ring on her finger with a raised eyebrow. "really?" ingrid retaliated by tapping the small golden a necklace around your neck.

"well, guess we're both-" you mocked her whipping noise and gesture from before as the taller girl laughed and shoved you, the two of you returning to the living room where your girlfriends were.

"hola princesa." you chuckled as you sat down and bagheera settled immediately into your lap, finger stroking down her spine. "they say cats are good judge of character." mapi pointed out as she leaned into ingrid.

"clearly bagheera is not." she added on at your expense making your girlfriend laugh as you frowned at the noise. "i think we should get a cat amor." aitana hinted with a smile as you rolled your eyes assuming she was joking.

"so when is your next away game?" you changed topics, bagheera walking from your lap into aitana's who cooed at her affectionately. "two more weeks, next champions league match." ingrid answered you, both your girlfriends too caught up playing with bagheera as you sent her a grateful smile.

"oh! look, bagheeras sister had kittens last week." mapi grabbed her phone off the coffee table and clicked into the photo, your girlfriend melting as she stared at the screen. "oh they are so cute." aitana sighed with a pout.

"bebita..." the brunette handed mapi her phone back and slid closer to you with a smile you knew all too well. "oh no! don't even try it tana." you chuckled, pushing away her hands which tried to tug you even closer to her.

"we should get a cat, a kitten." aitana smiled, eyes burning a hole into the side of your head as you sighed, head thumping back into the soft cushion of the lounge. "no amor, we should not." you shook your head firmly.

"why! you love bagheera." your girlfriend pointed out as the cat in question rubbed herself against your leg which didn't help your case. "sí amor but bagheera is not my cat so part of the reason i love seeing her is that i get to hand her back." you grinned as mapi sent you a glare and snatched back her daughter, holding her close to her chest.

"but we looked after her when they went to norway and it was fine?” aitana continued, arm draping across the back of your shoulders. "sí but again amor we handed her back." you remained firm on your point, shaking your head when she asked again.

"is she interested in selling the kittens?" your girlfriend ignored you, finger tracing circles on the back of your neck in an attempt to distract you as you pushed her arm off. "amor, we can't get a cat." you spoke more firmly.

"i could call and ask her?" mapi offered, the two of them conversing as if you weren't even in the room as you scoffed and looked to ingrid for help who shook her head, staying out of it.

"tana, mi amor we can't get a cat. you're always at training or games, i work all the time, we would never be home to look after a cat. that would not be fair!" you tried to reason with her as finally she looked at you, your resolve softening just slightly seeing the pleading look in her eyes.

"we are out a lot and bagheera is fine. cats like being alone sometimes!" mapi chimed in as you sent her a murderous glare. "not helping león!" you hissed as she shrugged, stroking bagheera.

"i am not trying to help amiga, at least not help you." mapi grinned sending your girlfriend a wink. "bebita por favor. if not a kitten then a cat, a rescue cat maybe! you know you like helping people, why not help a poor innocent cat mi amor?" aitana pouted as you sighed deeply, sensing this was not something you'd not get out of easily.

"we can discuss it at home cariño." your girlfriend smiled suggestively as she squeezed your thigh, and seeing the look in her eyes you knew this wouldn't be a conversation you would win.

"can you send me the number for the lady with the kittens please maps?" you sighed, your girlfriend kissing your cheek repeatedly as ingrid chuckled and once again made the whipping gesture with her hand.

"well it sounds like bagheera is becoming a tía!"

[divab0dy]

Giving hamzah or art their first handjob🙈🙈💋

Hands on Learning

contains: smut MDNI!!! sub!art, virgin!art, hand job obv, lmk if there's anything else

authors note: okay i really wanted to write this about hamzah but i cannot picture him getting his first hj at his big age. art is pathetic tho i could picture him getting his first kiss at 35. maybe i'll write something similar with hamzah tho!! also side note this is like the worst thing i've ever fucking written so lmk if you want me to rewrite this😭

art had been the sweet kid, always in the shadow of patrick when he came around stanford. dragging art to parties of a school he didn't go to, forcing art to talk to people, guiding him on how to do so. sometimes with patrick feeding him information and things to say, it felt like the people he talked to were more of patrick's than his.

you were the first one who felt like his. he had met you at a party that he didn't go to with patrick. in fact he didn't even tell patrick about you until after he asked you out. he did this all on his own. you were also the only relationship that had ever gone anywhere besides a first date and kiss at the end of the night if he was lucky.

you were in his dorm, making out on his bed, sat up on your knees, next to him, tilting your head down to kiss him. this happened very often, but it never seemed to lead anywhere, he always had some work to do, or something for tennis to be at. you knew he was lying but couldn't quite understand why.

this particular time he seemed to be letting it go on longer than others, his hands wandered down your waist to your hips. you pull back slightly and move to put a hand on his thigh, but stop when you feel something plush. you pull back all the way, realizing that he has a pillow in his lap.

you laugh and he returns with a chuckle, his far more nervous than yours. "sorry," he breathes.

"it's okay. are you nervous?" you rest a hand on this pillow.

"yeah... sorry," he looks away as he speaks.

"do you not want to..." you trail off.

"no! no i do! i just..." now he's trailing off.

"we don't have to do anything you don't want to," you reassure.

"okay yeah... i mean i really want to... i'm just nervous," he sighs, his eyes meeting yours again.

"why don't you let me take this," you tug at the pillow and he allows it. you remove the pillow from his lap and notice how he's tenting in his black tennis shorts.

you kiss him again to distract him, placing a hand on his thigh to hopefully help calm his nerves. he jolts when your hand meets his thigh, not your intended reaction. you push your tongue past his lips, intruding in on his mouth as his does the same to yours.

you move to sit on his lap while he's distracted in the kiss. he reacts instinctively, pushing his hips up into yours and groaning into your mouth. you swallow his moans and return with a few of your own.

he pulls back, "i've never done this before," he blurts.

"never done what?" you reposition yourself, away from his cock, straining through the think material of his shorts.

"i'm like... i'm a virgin," his eyes can't seem to meet yours, his hands suddenly fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

"that's okay... what have you done before?" you try to keep your voice sweet and sincere.

"really nothing... just hmm. just making out." he still can't meet yours eyes.

"we can start real slow of you want," you bring your hand down to rest on his thigh, next to his crotch. you're trying your best to keep your voice light hearted and calm, hiding the fact that you want to tear him apart and eat him alive.

"yeah... i'm really hard," he laughs at his own sentence. is he high? you think to yourself. surely not, you've been with him all day. he's just that out of it from a simple touch.

"okay, you wanna take these off?" you look down to where your fingers are hooked on the elastic of his shorts. he lifts his hips, and you lift yours in turn so that he can shimmy out of them. "yeah boxers too, good job." he's feeling exposed and embarrassed all of a sudden as he tries to tug his shirt down, even though he just purposely exposed himself. "can i touch you?" and boy do you want to do more than touch him. this is a mouth watering, jaw clenching, pussy throbbing sight.

"please," he sighs, his hands gripping at your thighs, trying to ground himself. he feels like if he doesn't hold on, he might drift out the slightly open window of his dorm, into the sky and away forever. you spit on your hand and bring it down to his cock, gently wrapping around the base. he shudders and closes his eyes, he's trying so fucking hard to last more than a stroke. you begin gentle, loose handed, slow. his hips are immediately.

"oh fuck... your hands so soft... feels better." he's so out of it. his eyes are squeezed shut and he's bucking into your loose grasp, body all tense.

"better than what?" you wonder out loud.

"better than my hand, so much better," his hands are gripping tightly at your thighs, rolling the plush flesh in between his fingers and thumbs.

"yeah? you want me to go faster?" you smile at him. he nods. "why don't you open your eyes and look at me hm?" you're voice has a sweetness to it that you didn't even know you had.

his eyes snap open and they're filled with desperation. "mm feels good," his head rolls back and hits the wall. you speed up and his body only jolts more. he's desperately rocking his hips up into your hand. any thought he had before of not wanting to finish early has gone out the window, now he's only chasing pleasure, pure primal instinct. you grip onto his cock tighter, bringing your other hand to play with his tip, fingers dancing around the redish-pink area in circles. it's like you know exactly how to drive him insane, how to touch him just how he needs you to.

"you close artie?" you whisper, kissing his neck.

"so close, so fucking close, gonna cum," he stutters out. you can barely make sense of his words.

"it's okay, you can cum," and with that you grab his balls, giving them a light squeeze, tracing the seam with your thumb.

he's cumming in an instant, all over. your hands, your wrist, his chest, his thighs, dripping down to his balls, you name it. it's everywhere.

"fuck 'm sorry, i meant to... i meant too." the clarity is hitting but at the same time he's never felt so good in his entire fucking life. not even close to that. he can't speak properly and he's still twitching all over.

"i wanted to last longer" he shudders, moving you off of him and pulling up his shorts.

"it's okay artie, you did real good." you smile, cupping his cheek with one hand.

he blushes, embarrassed, but melts into your touch.

[lilacxquartz]

morning troubles;

kenjaku x f!reader

plot: both of you were insatiable in the morning — themes: smut, (giving) oral, p i v, kissing, kenjaku being a pervert, established relationships — w.c: 1.5k • masterlist • ao3

a/n: messing around with (hopefully natural reading) couple dynamics here, some bickering, some teasing with smut in all sorts of positions. i have another idea regarding using the brainTM but maybe as a fluff piece, we’ll see!

You woke up with a start. Albeit reluctantly, you opened up your eyes only to see Kenjaku’s face pressed right up against yours. He looked back at you with an almost alarming intensity, his pupils zeroing into your soul. You couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy as a result, especially given the creepy, almost-knowing smile he wore.

“Why’re you looking at me like that?”

The smug tone in his voice that followed your question did not help in the slightest either, “Oh, well, you see,” he began, allowing his eyes to drift down the bed, “I have a bit of a problem.”

Your eyes narrowed as your eyes drifted towards the middle of the bed, catching a glimpse of his morning wood pitching a tent in the duvet. Returning your gaze to lock in with his own, somehow his expression grew a hint more perverted; his eyes half-lidded and his face noticeably flushed.

“Yeah?” you sighed a resigned breath, “that’s why, huh?”

Kenjaku’s lips stretched to reveal a toothy grin that time, his hand dipping below the blanket to lazily stroke along his shaft. “You’ll help me out, won’t you?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to scold him. “I don’t even get a ‘good morning’ or anything like that and you’re already being so demanding…”

“Good morning,” he sassed in response, “now how about you—“

“—don’t, don’t you dare even finish that sentence,” you shot back right away before taking a deep breath and sighing, “fine though, fiiine, I’ll help you out…”

Begrudgingly, you lowered yourself down, pulling the blanket down along with you all the while he propped himself up to lean back over the headboard. With the freeing pull of your hands, his erection sprung free at long last, his eyes glinting with anticipation.

You extended a hand, coiling your fingers around his cock, brushing your palm in a back-and-forth motion, soon guiding the tip into your mouth, taking him in slowly. It didn’t take too long for him to surrender to his own call for pleasure though, with your rhythm knocked slightly off balance from him rocking into your mouth regardless, pushing in to slide right across your tongue and hit the back of your throat.

Before you could properly respond, one hand snaked its way over to your scalp, entangling his digits within. The other drifted towards your cheek to lightly tap on its side, directing your attention towards him.

“God, you look so good when you’re choking on my cock,” he murmured as he took notice of the continuously annoyed look on your face, finding the situation amusing, “you can stop looking at me like that though, I know that you secretly love this.”

Kenjaku didn’t give you any time to think of a reply however, quickly hilting himself further into your throat, deeply enjoying the sensation of you writhing from his intrusion, just barely containing him. He continued regardless of your quickly disheveled state, the sight too intoxicating to ignore.

Feeling greedy, he let slip of a request with the urgency of demand—how desperate he was to share this moment with you, “Touch yourself – get turned on as I use you—“

You tore your arm out from your awkward position before reaching down in between your legs, feeling for your clit. While he guided the motion in your head, you ran messy circles around the bud, with your main focus being how to scold this fossil later on, yet being incapacitated for the time being—letting him use your throat instead—feeling your cheeks cave from the suction.

Just as you felt him get close though, he yanked you away, pulling both out of you as well as distracting you from your momentum. Kenjaku took a moment to admire your heater state; the heat of the moment colouring your cheeks. “You turned on yet?”

It took you a moment to catch up.

“Yeah, yeah,” you rolled your eyes, “I’m wet—“

Without warning, he flipped you over to your back, taking no time at all to loom over your form. His fingers made their way into your soaked slit to check—plunging his digits into your slickened cunt before retracting away—bringing the glistening knuckles over to his lips instead, tasting the evidence of your arousal.

“You taste so good,” he praised, feeling himself throb even harder, somehow.

Steadily, he folded your legs upwards, positioning his saliva-soaked tip over your entrance and easing himself with lubricated ease—just how he liked it. His pursuit was immediate, bucking into your core with hungry fervour, the pace reaching an almost brutal tempo. Quickly, he surrendered to the addictive feeling of you clenching beneath him, so turned on that you couldn’t deny it for any longer; breathless moans escaping your lips, giving away just how good he made you feel, leaving him feeling equally breathless.

“Fuuuck,” he gasped out, slamming into you all the while, “it’s like you were made for me,” he added, “do you like being used like this?” he asked in a low whisper, leaning over you so that your legs fell flat over the bed again, nearly spent from the intensity of skin meeting with skin—again and again.

Though, Kenjaku did pause for a hot beat, stopping himself from saying anything too vulgar, his priority for the time being was on making you both feel good. He locked his words in his throat instead, pistoning himself at an unforgiving rate into your sopping sex, his wide smile smoothed into intense focus.

Barely able to hold his ground, he regretfully stilled and felt himself blur into you, coming undone as soon as the feeling pushed through. His hands clamped around your back, pulling you closer to his chest as he tried to stop himself, but it was far too late.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he huffed in a ragged whine, “I’m still not fully in control of this guy—did you at least…?”

You shook your head. “No, but it’s fine, it was still nice—“

Kenjaku interrupted you quickly, stifling your assurance with a kiss. “You smell so good,” he whispered against your lips, leaning forward, “just give me a minute and I can…”

You shook your head again, trying to resist teasing him over his bruised ego. “It’s fine—promise.”

Kenjaku however wasn’t taking that for an answer, refusing to acknowledge his slightly wounded pride. He kissed you again and when he pulled away, he couldn’t help but feel his once-sated arousal stir again over just how good you looked, pulling you gently over him so that you were sat over his lap with your breasts pressed against his upper body.

“Obliviously it’s not okay,” he scoffed, “I’ll be damned if I’m not the one to finish you off.”

You narrowed your eyes at the self-assigned mission he seemed to give himself, although, parting your legs all the same. You then settled over his renewed length, rolling your hips while he held onto the plush muscle of your ass—his fingernails sinking bleeding crescents—lazily pushing himself forth to try and match your rhythm. A low gravelly hum escaped his lips as he strained himself, still sore from before.

He looked up at you, taking in your appearance yet again. “You must be a demon or something,” he lightheartedly jabbed, propping a thumb to gently massage your clit, “a succubus or something similar – you’re going to ruin me—“ he gasped once more, “hold that thought.”

You held onto his shoulders, throwing your head forward to lean against him as he worked both his fingers and his hips alike, plunging forth into you with bruising intensity. The two of you just barely retained any sliver of composure, with your legs beginning to tremble, giving in to the rising bliss at last. Kenjaku too, a second time, was almost in pain and yet—

“God,” he groaned, his voice breaking slightly at the sensation, yet unable to deny the feel of you contracting around his cock—fluttering internally, your legs going numb and warm yet boneless, like heated putty in his hands. “Finally,” he sighed, “I thought you were going to kill me.”

“So, no round three then?” you joked.

Kenjaku’s face paled at the mention, the teasing flying right over his head. “Absolutely not, you’re responsible both for finding me a new vessel if you break this one and for the transplant, if so,” he wearily sighed, pulling you closer, still buried in you.

“Okay, let’s—“

“—what did I just tell you?” he scolded, adjusting himself so that he slipped out of you. “I’m exhausted, anyway.”

Despite yawning right after, you tried to still leave his hold. “That’s your problem, Kenny. I’m gonna go ahead and grab breakfast.”

However, Kenjaku had already made up his mind as he turned over to his side, taking you down with him and shushing you in the process. “Ah, ah, ah. Not so fast, you devil,” he warned, reeling you as close as possible, “you’re going to keep me company.”

“What are you doing—“ you quickly replied in protest.

“—quiet,” he interrupted while yawning, pushing his nose into the crook of your neck. “Wake me up in an hour or something.”

All the while you tried to claw out of his death grip, not getting very far at all. “Please no. I’m going to be so bored—“

Kenjaku however just simply smiled with his eyes still closed, locking you into his hold without any room to spare. “Too bad, you’ll survive.”

[cod-thoughts]

You call my bluff, how can I keep this up?

Word count: 1.2k

Relationships: implied GhostPrice

Tags: Very silly, inspired by art, Ghost is very down bad, they arent together yet

Part of a project that has a tiny explanation here. Keep reading under the cut!!

AN: This is a gift for the lovely @gomzdrawfr we barely know each other but i absolutely love your art it always brings me a lot of joy. This particular drawing hasnt left my mind since you've uploaded it and ive been dying to write for it so now i have. Happy valentines day! <33 Hopefully this doesnt freak you out my bad if it does 0_0

Simon Riley prided himself on discipline. A soldier’s mind was supposed to be sharp, focused, unwavering—trained to cut through distractions like a blade through fog.

Unfortunately, Ghost’s mind was none of those things at the moment.

Because right now, all he could think about was lifting his Captain.

It had started as a passing thought, one of those ridiculous notions that flit in and out of consciousness before being dismissed outright. But the problem—the real, pressing issue—was that he didn’t dismiss it. He let it linger. He let it take root.

And now? Now it was a full-blown fantasy.

Price wasn’t even doing anything particularly remarkable. He was just there, standing at the other end of the room, sleeves rolled up, a cigar hanging lazily between his fingers as he pored over mission reports. The bastard didn’t even realise what he was doing, didn’t realise how profoundly, cosmically annoying it was that he looked so unbothered. So effortlessly composed. So fucking liftable.

Ghost flexed his fingers absently. He was pretty sure he could do it. No, scratch that—he knew he could do it. He’d been working out more lately, upping his deadlifts and bench press, and Price wasn’t that much heavier than the weights he’d been throwing around. Maybe a bit more solid in the middle, sure, but Ghost wasn’t about to let that stop him.

His mind supplied a vivid image of how it might go: him stepping up behind Price, arms looping around his waist before hoisting him clean off the ground like he weighed nothing. He imagined the startled grunt Price would make, the way his cigar might tumble from his lips in sheer disbelief. Ghost would hold him there, suspended mid-air, feeling triumphant and smug as Price swore up a storm. Maybe even toss him over a shoulder for good measure.

A slow, creeping warmth spread through Ghost’s chest. Fuck, I really wanna do it.

And then the thought—the dangerous, irrational thought—took an even more deranged turn.

What if he just… buried his face in Price’s back? Just thunked his head against him like some oversized cat marking its territory? What if he just took a big inhale too? What if he just filled his lungs up with Price's intoxicating scent?

Ghost had seen videos of big cats rubbing against their handlers, knocking them around with sheer weight alone, and now the mental image of himself doing that to Price was seared into his mind. 

Would Price let him? Probably not. But maybe. If Ghost timed it right. If he made it quick enough, took advantage of Price’s soft spot for him.

Jesus Christ, what’s wrong with me?

He scrubbed a hand down his mask, barely resisting the urge to groan. He was losing his goddamn mind, and the worst part was, he wasn’t even ashamed of it. If anything, he was tempted.

Because it wasn’t just some unhinged urge—it was Price.

It was the way Price carried himself, all rough edges and commanding presence, but with the kind of warmth underneath that Ghost couldn’t look away from. It was the way he laughed, the rare deep rumble of it that made Ghost’s chest go tight. It was the way Price had a habit of standing too close, completely unaware of how much space he actually occupied in Ghost’s head.

It was the way Price had his little habits—how he’d run a hand down his beard when he was thinking, or the way he bounced when he was feeling restless, fingers gripping his vest. The way his accent thickened when he was particularly exasperated, or how his blue eyes sharpened when he was assessing a situation. Ghost could list a dozen things about the man that made his brain short-circuit, and not a single one of them had anything to do with the fact that Price was his superior officer.

He wasn’t just some bloke Ghost wanted to wrestle to the ground for fun. No, it was something worse, something worsebecause it came with an emotion Ghost didn’t quite have a name for but felt deep in his ribs whenever Price clapped a hand on his shoulder or called him ‘Simon.’

Ghost sighed and slouched further into his seat, arms crossed. Maybe if he just stopped looking at him—

“Yer makin’ that face again.”

Ghost stiffened, head snapping up. Price was looking at him now, one brow raised in amusement.

Shit.

“…What face?” Ghost asked, voice carefully neutral.

“The one where you’re plottin’ somethin’ daft.”

Ghost blinked. He was absolutely not making that face. He was making his normal, everyday blank expression. The same one that had struck fear into the hearts of enemy combatants for years. There was no fucking way Price could tell that, just moments ago, Ghost had been contemplating rubbing his head against him like an over-affectionate housecat. 

How he could even read Ghost's expression through the mask had always been a mystery. Price knew him too well, it should scare him but it doesn't, it never has. 

“I’m not plottin’ anything,” Ghost lied.

Price hummed, unconvinced. “Uh-huh.” He turned back to his reports but didn’t drop the smirk. “Whatever you say, Simon.”

Ghost exhaled slowly. Disaster avoided.

And yet—and yet—

The urge still hadn’t left.

No, if anything, it had gotten worse. Because now, in the absence of fantasy, his brain had moved into problem-solving mode. Could he get away with it? Could he pull it off? If he were fast enough, if he caught Price off guard, maybe—

Ghost bit the inside of his cheek. Maybe he needed to accept that this was just who he was now. A man consumed by the overwhelming, irrational desire to manhandle his Captain and fucking nuzzle him. A lost cause.

A complete and total, lost cause that was actively fighting for its life as Price casually stretched, arms rolling back, giving Ghost a perfect view of his broad shoulders and back flexing under the fabric of his shirt.

Ghost’s jaw clenched. His hand curled into a fist.

Get. A. Fucking. Grip.

“Well, whatever it is, just make sure it doesn’t involve me having to clean up any of your messes.” Price’s voice snapped him back to the present.

Ghost barely processed the words. All he could focus on was the fact that, when Price shifted in his seat, his damn jacket rode up just slightly, exposing a sliver of his back, displaying all the little moles and freckles and those two distinct dimples in his lower back that look perfect for his fingers to dig into and oh, for fuck's sake.  

Ghost clenched his fists. 

He was going to lose it.

He was actually going to lose it.

He had to get out of here before he did something insane. Like follow through on these godforsaken thoughts.

“Right,” Ghost muttered, pushing himself up from his chair a little too quickly, a little too stiffly. “Gotta… check on something.”

Price barely glanced up. “Mmhm.”

Ghost turned on his heel, marching toward the exit. He needed fresh air. He needed to not be in this room thinking about how catastrophically down bad he was.

As he reached the doorway, he heard Price’s voice again, this time tinged with unmistakable amusement.

“Oi, Ghost.”

Ghost paused but didn’t turn around.

“…If you’re thinkin’ about doin’ whatever it is you’re thinkin’ about doin’—” Price’s smirk was practically audible. “—I’d think about it first.”

Ghost didn’t respond. Just gritted his teeth and forced himself to step outside before he did something really stupid. He couldn’t move until the door shut behind him. He inhaled deeply, exhaled through his nose, and flexed his fingers at his sides.

Maybe, maybe he could let this ridiculous urge go. Maybe he could shove it back into the depths of his mind and act like a normal person.

…Or maybe, just maybe, he was gonna pick the perfect moment to put his theory to the test.

Because one day—one day—he was gonna lift that man.

And no force on earth was going to stop him.

[threepandas]

Bad End: Preserve Us

You know how in conservation biology you sometimes try to introduce a pair to be mated and one will just... just fuckin' merc' the other? Just absolutely obliterate them in a hissing, growling, nightmare ball of fury? Before anyone can stop them? Territorial and (to put it lightly) "uninterested", dispite your desperate desire to save their species from extinction, and need for them to get frisky?

I know.

Holy SHIT do I know.

There's a lot of reasons. Ways you can (hopefully) get around it. But first? Is finding out WHY it happened. Was it just the one? The environment? Were they sick? Or... as is the case sometimes, did they decide their Handler was their mate? Some species only mate once. Are loyal for life. You gotta work around that.

Which is all well and fine and good.

When we're talking about ANIMALS.

Non-sentient, non-sapient animals! Not ALIEN SPECIES! What the ABSOLUTE FRESH HELL did they expect from me!? Compliance?! This was UNETHICAL! Monstrous! I had been trying to slip my gaurds long enough to radio for help SINCE I GOT HERE.

I hope the fuckers ROTTED in whatever their Gods considered a Hell.

"Conservation facility" my ENTIRE ASS. You can't run CONSERVATION EFFORTS like this on SENTIENTS. Eugenics loving, atrocity fetishizing, immoral BASTARDS!!! And they KNEW it too. They HAD too! Or they wouldn't be HIDING it! Fucking KIDNAPPING scientists! Biologists! Doctors!

I was on my ways to study Lekku monkeys!

God...

I'm? I'm so tired of being pissed.

Furious and outraged and SCARED. Horrified and sick. There are PEOPLE here. Kids! And I don't... oh god, I don't... H-How LONG has this been going ON? Why did no one NOTICE?

Every day I feel my heart break. The desire to scream and scream and never STOP, grow inside me. I have to get out. I have to get us ALL out. Get these people FREE. Do SOMETHING. But I am forced to "conserve" the species assigned to me. The group assigned to me.

It's killing my love for the field. Making a mockery of everything I worked for.

I don't... I don't think my hands will ever be clean again.

But I have to help. Do everything I can. Make hell a little kinder, if nothing else. At least while I figure out a way OUT. My group deserves better. The groups I do not work with, deserve better.

I disguise games as "testing". Pages and pages of meaningless numbers ans scores. INSIST that enrichment is the key to success. Diet is EVERYTHING. Oh, and habitat? Well unless we can mimic their habitat there's no WAY they'll "breed".

No, no, using machines would stress them out too much.

It's like you DONT want babies!

Who's the expert here? That's RIGHT! Dr. Cho, but FAILING her and like five other people? Me. And I know for a FACT they are pulling the same scam. We ALL fucking hate you. Dr. Cho has KIDS, you FUCKS. Hasn't seen her son in YEARS thanks to you bastards. He was engaged. She's probably missed his WEDDING thanks to you!

Getting distracted, spiraling again, gotta stop DOING that.

It wont help anyone.

But God, if my brain doesn't slowly feel like it's shorting out the longer I'm here. Stress is called the silent killer for a reason. Or what that something else? Fuck. I can't even look it up! Bastards cut us off from the galactic web. Full information blackout. Because of COURSE they did... can't risk us rightfully calling for help.

Getting the Feds involved to shut this hell pit of a black site DOWN. Or a "whatever it truely is" site. Because it sure as SHIT has nothing to do with conservational biology. Except maybe the abuse of it.

But that doesn't help me right now.

Focus, damn it!

The Yanderens. Old, absurdly rare, nearly extinct, with a home planet they'd reduced to uninhabitable wastelands millennia ago due too... something. No one knew what. There had definitely been fighting. It WAS documented they were excellent fighters. Ruthless ones at that. But it was ALSO documented they strongly pack bonded.

There had been a lot of strongly worded warnings on what few documation my captures were able to find, translate, then shove at me. But honestly? They said the same thing about humans. Ooooh big scary persistent hunters~ oh nooooo! Watch out for the omnivores with a history of war! Sins of the father and we are defined by our diets! Class systems! Let's all JUDGE each ooooootheeeeer~!

Yeah, no. Not buying it.

Especially when the "warnings" were so damn vague and poorly documented. All "the HORRORS!" and "we barely SURVIVED!". Cause honestly? The Yanderens I was watching over? Easily the most mild and temperate individuals I had ever met. No tantrums from the kids, no big emotional meltdowns, just curiosity and at WORST? Mild frustration.

It made everything ten thousand times worse for me, that these poor people were in this hellish place. They were calm. Curious. Meant for greater, BETTER things! They should be out, playing and learning. Exploring and enjoying peaceful strolls in some art gallery or zen garden somewhere! Not... not this sterile fucking LAB.

But then M-17 loses his SHIT.

And now I'm kinda panicking. Because F-6 is not just dead, God rest her soul (she didn't deserve this. Oh god. She was so SWEET.), but M-17 might just be too, soon. If I can't find out what HAPPENED. Because if he's "feral" or "diseased" or whatever other horrifying terminology they end up using? They DO something about it.

And I can't actually stop them.

I... I don't know if it was a trauma response. Or I did something wrong. I could PROBABLY pass it off as my needing more studies into their observed "mating habits"? That... that I somehow... turned it... uuuuh... dominance battle? Shit. Where are my notes?!

F-6 is DEAD and its all my fault.

She was such a cuddle fiend too. Always excited to hear about my studies, from before. My life. Wanted to join me after we got out of here. I never should have let her volunteer. Granted, she wouldn't have taken no for an answer. Wanted to spend the pregnancy plotting our escape. Asked me to help raise the kid once we got out. Had a whole grand plan. But I...And I...

God...

I should have said NO. Insisted. It was just so hard, when F-6 had made it all sound like it would be okay. Like she had a plan and all I need to do was trust her. Believe in her. Then we could be free.

I had hoped M-17 would work best. He was always the most agreeable and quick on the uptake. I figured... well... ha ha. God, I'm such an IDIOT. I should have CHECKED. Who KNOWS what happened before I arrived? What triggered I just accidentally rammed my foot into? FUCK! I sweep everything from me desk onto the ground. Don't give I shit that I'll have to clean it up later,

I had figured M-17 would be COOL with it.

This place is getting to me, isn't it?

Why the FUCK would anyone be COOL with getting jumped? Bred like an animal? Shoved in some random ass room, with a vaguely familiar stranger, and told "now fuck. We want a literal litter from you two"? All while some biologist watchs and makes god damned NOTES!?

Of course he fought back. OF COURSE he didn't stop!

The only one there he could trust was himself.

I...I'm becoming a monster... aren't I?

Oh god.

At least we're in the satellite facility. The gaurds are definitely going to rat me out, but the news will take time to filter back. And... and the Yanderens being so "dangerous" might work in my favor. I... I can spin this. I HAVE to spin this. I can't let TWO people die for my fuck up.

I promised myself I would get as many people out as I could. I refuse to back out now. Even if that means crying, puking, then going out there to lie my ASS off. This was TOTALLY NORMAL. In fact, expected! Yep! It means that's we've determined that M-17 is the alpha Yanderen! A thing that is both REAL and possible to BE!

I rinse my mouth, stomach empty. Crying has exhausted me. But I can't give up. Too many lives count on me now. I... I wish so badly I was just a nobody again. Just some random biology student, trying to make a name for herself. Being "important" is a CURSE.

I try not to chug my water as I half stumble out of the glorified shoebox that is my bathroom into the much larger and Fancier CLOSET that is my room. Truely, no expense spared, for the captives they ripped away from their lives. So glad I am here willingly and of my own volition.

I gather myself. Finally ready to go and try to untangle the mess I have made of everything. When a deep booming alarm rattles my bones. The lights flickering to red. Blast doors slide down, SLAM shut over the transparent recessed bit of wall that counts as my window, the door to the rest of the facility.

Trapping me inside my small room.

Almost immediately after, an EXPLOSION rocks the world hard enough to knock me from my feet. Only the bed's limited padding keeping me from a nasty concussion. The edge of it still ramming painfully into my shoulder. Another explosion. Then another. I sit for a long, terrible, second stunned.

The moment passes.

I scramble on my hands and knees for the in facility communication device that I had knocked from my desk in anger, grief. Not daring to stand lest I be thrown down again. I manage to find it as the world shakes again for the fifth time. Followed by what sounds like gun fire out in the halls.

I fling myself back towards my shitty little bunk. Drag every bit of padding and protection I can, down and under it with me. If the roof goes? I want shock absorption. If shots get through the door? I want something to slow those blasts down. Anything. ANYTHING! To increase my fucked chances of surviving.

I burrito up and wriggle back as deep as I can. The world muffled but ending just outside my crawlspace. Then I desperately try to get one of the others on the line. I got nothing but chaos. Running. Running. Hiding. And Dead.

Dead. Dying.

Remember me.

And GONE.

Some of them fighting with their groups too freedom. Some being targeted right along side their captors. Others savaged by the ACTUAL animals they had been working with, the one's Galacticly deemed too dangerous for effort like this. Someone or something had set EVERYONE free. A simultaneous attack on all fronts that our captors could not put down or escape.

The Yanderens were out there.

Oh god. Please let them be okay. They wer-

My thoughts ground to a halt as M-32 LAUNCHED his tiny body onto the screen of one of the security feeds I was desperately looking through. F-6 had figured out how to get us a backdoor to them a long time ago. M-32 was just a kid. A small, soft, cuddly little thing that loved to lean against me and crawl into my lap. All cherubic cheeks and cute little curls. Shy!

Yet I watched... in mounting horror... as like a lion on some unfortunate animal, he landed on a gaurds back. Small arms going around his body in a mockery of a hug. Head tilting so he could BITE at the back of the man's neck, small hands clawing and ripping at weak points in his armor, as he screamed. Thrashed. Tried desperately to get M-32 OFF of him.

There was so much blood.

My hands were shaking. So much, I accidentally hit the next screen button. Jerked my thumb back. But... but oh god. There was F-26. Using the butt of a rifle to slam down against the head of a scientist. Again and again and again. Long after the begging and thrashing stopped. I flipped again. M-4? No... please not M-4. Not the soft spoken and wise...

I watched as he grinned, a cold thing, and shot out another joint. His foot on the chest of the head scientist who had moved him to a different group. In the background, his supervisor lay dead. They had not died quickly. The head scientist was begging. A mess of tears and pain. M-4 shot another joint, pressing his foot down harder.

I wanted to be sick.

I flipped again. And again. And AGAIN.

H...Had I known them at ALL? Like demons wearing the faces of those I'd known. People I'd trusted. Not a SINGLE ONE was... oh... oh god. F-6. Had she been too? Would I have ever known? Was THIS what all those warnings meant? I couldn't think. Couldn't breath. Had... Had never had a panic attack but... BUT-!

I wheezed.

Shook.

"Oh, Clever giiiirl~" A familiar voice sang, before a blood splattered face flickered into being on the screen in my hands. "Where aaaare yoooou~?"

M-17. He'd somehow managed to take over the security cameras. That or the communication feed. His eyes were bright. A grin on his face like I'd never seen from him. ALIVE in a way I'd never seen him. The excitement transformed his face. No longer softly doll like, but something DANGEROUS. Unhinged. His eyes dilated and deadly teeth on display.

"Come out, come out wherever you aaaare~. I have so much to TELL you! We have so much to DO! I'm going to make you MINE sweetheart! No one else can have you. So come out. I won't hurt you much, I promise! Just gotta make you mine then we can leave okay~?"

Furious snarls echoed through the halls. Male and female alike. Old and young. I... I recognized each of those voices. What was HAPPENING?

"Aaaah? Did you TRASH really think you DESERVED her? Ha! Please." M-17 grin was cruel. Mocking. "You don't have a chance in hell of taking what's MINE."

His eyes seems to shift away from unseen enemies and back, somehow, to me. Warming to something euphoric. Resting his head on his hand as if to consider me. His fingers spread, stroking his own face, as if the desire to TOUCH was simply too great. As if what he was imagining was bleeding over into the real world.

"Oh clever girl~ my clever, clever girl~♡ I can't wait til it's just you and ME. Start think of where you want to go first, okay? We're going to get married. Have that child you wanted me for. All the things you ever dreamed~♡ I'm going to have you all to myself. No more annoying others. Ah~ can't wait to find you soon!"

"But first?"

"May the best of us Win."

[xetlynn]

an artists muse- a viktor fic.

ten.

[nine] [ten] [eleven]

but look at the flowers you crushed.

It had been a week since Viktor and you decided it was a good idea to do the project separately. A week since the two of you had the painful conversation of the past. It led to horrible after effects for the both of you. In different but similar ways. 

Viktor had shut himself away in his room. Not leaving unless it was to go to class, the bathroom or to get a few groceries. Other than that he was locked away like a familiar princess. At this moment he’s repeatedly scanning over his slideshows before clicking to his emails. His mind lingers on the subject bar. 

Backspacing his words then retyping similar things all to end up with “project.” He includes the slideshow along with a few other things. Asking when you think you’d be done with your end. Once he presses send his chest tightens. Did that come off harsh? Hopefully not.

“Okay, you think this looks good?” You ask, sticking out the tip of your tongue as you think aloud. “Mm, little crooked.” Claggor speaks from across from you. The two of you sat in the cafe, working on your board for biology. Claggor offered to help you since you kept whining about not having motivation to do anything. 

“I’m going to stab you with a pencil, what am I doing wrong?” You threaten as you try to place the piece of paper differently. He laughs at you, taking the sheet and setting it down. “There.” He simply announces and you glare up at him. “That’s literally what I just did!” You exclaim with furrowed eyebrows. “No, yours was crooked.” He argues and you just press your lips together, not wanting to make a scene at a place you go to regularly. 

You didn’t stop going to the cafe, still coming before class and as of lately, after class. Your friends have been joining you as they’ve been quite worried about you. Wanting to keep you company and distracted from, well yourself. You appreciate them extremely. You probably would’ve fallen apart without them. 

“You’re an idiot.” You tell him under your breath and he raises a brow up at you. “What’d you say, didn’t hear you?” He puts a hand up to his ear, pretending to be curious. “Because if I’m an idiot I can just stop helping right now.” He goes to scoot off the booth but you put your arms out. “Claggor, I didn’t mean itttt.” You pout, and he chuckles. 

“Apologize then.” He folds his arms. Your face goes straight. “Suddenly I don’t care anymore.” You go back to working on the board, gluing the paper down on the cardboard. He shakes his head, doing the same thing. 

The cafe door opens and four bodies emerge inside, chatting with one another. “Are you sure he’s going to want to see us?” Mel quietly asks her boyfriend, arms holding one another's. “Why wouldn’t he want to see his best friends?” Jayce questions with a smile and she clicks her tongue. “He doesn’t seem like himself lately, dear.” She reminds him and his smile falters a little bit. “Yeah… I know. But maybe getting a pick me up will, you know, pick him up. Emotionally.” He explains, Vi goes right up to the glass where the pastries are. Dragging Caitlyn with her. 

“Oh, a chocolate croissant.” She points, her finger pressing against the case. Cait smacks her hand. “Don’t smudge the glass.” She gives her girlfriend a dirty look. Violet sighs dramatically. “What looks good to you.” She holds Cait’s hand, ignoring the fact that she was just slapped like a child. “Whatever you want is fine with me.” She shrugs her shoulders. Vi grins. “We can share a few things then.”

“Aren’t we here for Viktor?” Caitlyn points out but it didn’t mean much to the pink-haired girl. “We are, but we can hang out for a bit.” Jayce says, secretly wanting to try a few things as well. And from the corner of the cafe you glance over to the group. They were loud so that’s what caught your attention at first. Then the fact that Violet was with them made you curious. You were with her brother. Claggor didn’t care though. 

He did however catch the fact that you kept looking at them like you needed to say something. “What do we even get him?” You overhear Mel ask, crouching down to look within the glass. “I think he likes pineapple. He’s obsessed with pina coladas.” Jayce informs them and you take a breath, holding it. Wanting to tell them it's the coconut. Not the pineapple. “There’s nothing with pineapple here.” Caitlyn states. 

“What’s the closest fruit to pineapple then?” Vi asks and you wince at that idiotic question. “Maybe he’ll like the cherry danish.” Mel purses her lips out as she thinks. “We should probably just get him the coffee before we leave.” Jayce sighs, he at least knows his best friend’s coffee order by heart. It’s just black coffee. 

They order their stuff and sit down. You were watching them the entire time. Claggor was surprised they didn’t feel your gaze burning into them. “Almost done with your side?” He startles you with his question and your head immediately turns in his direction. “Huh?” Your eyes were wide and he laughs. “Your side, did you finish gluing?” He repeats himself and you let out a small ‘oh.’ “Um, y-yeah.” You stammer. 

“Just gotta decorate now!” You clasp your hands together. He nods his head as you get out the colored pencils and stickers you bought. This time you don’t feel the eyes that are on you and Claggor. “Isn’t that [Name]?” Caitlyn whispers into Vi’s ear who was not very discreetly staring at you. “Mhm, that’s Powder’s best friend. You’ve met her.” Vi tells her. “I remember.” Caitlyn hums. “Sweet girl. But isn’t that Viktor’s [Name] as well?” She inquires. 

“Yeah,” Vi sighs. “Does your brother have a thing for her?” Jayce suddenly speaks up, leaning in with the two to stare at you. Mel pinches the bridge of her nose at the three. “No, of course not.” Violet shakes her head. But then seeing the two of you laughing and talking the way you guys are she begins to second guess herself. “Um… I mean they’ve always been close.” She adds. 

“Maybe he’s comforting her during this weird time with Viktor and her.” Caitlyn says in a hopeful tone. They then watch as you place a sticker on Claggor’s face, bursting into laughter. He scrunches his nose and then does the same thing to you. “She seems happy.” Jayce puffs out his cheeks. Not being as hopeful anymore. 

“Happier than Viktor but this is also a singular moment. We don’t know what’s going on behind closed doors.” Mel reminds them, taking a drink of her frozen lemonade. “That’s true, plus I would know if Claggor had a thing for [Name]. Mylo’s a blabber mouth.” Violet bites into her chocolate croissant. 

The four then move on to a different topic, finally looking away from you. “Alright, let’s go meet up with Mylo before he gets all pissy.” You stand up from the booth, stretching out your body. As you and Claggor clean up your area you glance back to the four. They looked like they were getting ready to leave as well. 

 Biting your bottom lip. “Um, I’m going to order something real quick. Get the rest for me?” You tilt your head to the side with a smile. He rolls his eyes playfully. “Get me something too.” He tells you and you nod. 

You skip to the counter, and the worker eyes you up and down before forcing out a smile. “Can I get a uh,” you peer over the glass. “A coconut puff, a black coffee and that uh chocolate chip cookie.” You request with a polite smile. 

You pay for the order and it doesn’t even take two minutes before the worker hands you your things. 

With a quick “thank you,” you head over to the four. Feeling your heartbeat race. Your mouth goes dry as you place the things down. Was this a stupid idea? Did you look like a creep? A stalker? They all gape up at you. 

“I uh… I heard you wondering what to get Viktor. Sorry for eavesdropping but he likes coconut. Not pineapple.” You force out a giggle. Vi and Jayce peek over to one another with knowing smirks. “Anyways, I wanted to pay for it. Don’t tell him. Please.” You hold the chocolate chip cookie behind your back. Feeling incredibly awkward. 

After them not saying anything for a few moments you go to walk away but Mel speaks up. Annoyed that the others didn’t say a thing first. “Thank you, [Name]. I’m sure he’ll appreciate getting something he actually likes.” She says and you look back at her. You give a smile. “Of course, can I ask something actually?” You question. 

“You just did.” Jayce teases and you perk up. “Another one then.” You chuckle. They all motion for you to go ahead and you take a deep breath. “Is he okay? He obviously doesn’t want to see me and I respect that. I’m still worried though.” They watch your demeanor grow sad, witnessing actual heartbreak right in front of them. The complete opposite of how you just were with Claggor minutes ago. 

The sticker on your face mocked you it seemed. It was a sun that had a drawn on, smiling face. “He’s getting better.” Jayce lies, Vi knits her eyebrows together, giving him a look and he waves her to stop. “Made him smile the other day! Don’t worry about him. He’s a grown man.” Jayce gives you thumbs up and your shoulders fall with relief. 

“That’s good, I’m glad. He deserves to be happy.” And as you say that sentence they see something you were trying your hardest to hide. Your actual feelings. The tears that keep welding and building in the creases of your bottom eyelids. “You do too, hun.” Mel reaches out to touch you but suddenly you're putting on a mask again. 

“Thank you,” you take a step back from the table. “Have a great day, I hope Viktor enjoys the puff and coffee.” You beam before heading to Claggor who was waiting by the door for you. 

Vi waves to him and he does a small nod. “You ready?” You look up at him, you look like you’re about to cry. “Let’s go.” He opens the door and you lead the way out as he holds the board for you. 

The four all turn to one another. “Holy shit, she’s like worse than Viktor.” Violet says to her friends, climbing out of the booth. Reaching a hand out to Caitlyn. Jayce grabs the trash as Mel picks up Viktor’s things. “Yeah, girl is beating herself up real bad.” Mel frowns. “We’re telling him, aren’t we?” Caitlyn quizzes. 

“Oh yeah.” “Duh.” “Yeah.”

“Viktor, Viktor, Viktor!!!” The four chant as they open the door, Mel holding the coffee and coconut puff in the air like trophies. Viktor was lying on his bed watching a show on his phone. He pauses the show in an irritated manner, sitting up. “What are you doing here?” He sneers at them. 

“Oh, hush it, take the coffee and puff from your girlfriend.” Jayce shoves the stuff towards their friend. His face contorts in confusion. “Girlfriend?” But nonetheless taking the stuff and staring down at the name that was written on the cup. You didn’t think that one through… It was a wrong spelling version of your name but still… your name. 

“Did you guys tell them to write her name? This isn’t how you spell it.” He insults them and they all laugh. “No, it was [Name]. She must’ve forgotten that they write her name down.” Jayce tells him sincerely. 

Viktor thinks back to it and if it’s the worker he was thinking about they always write your name wrong. Seemingly on purpose because they have this weird dislike for you. You’ve complained about it quite a lot. 

“Mm, how did you guys bump into her? How long until you bombarded her with questions?” He peers up at them with a bored expression, taking a drink of the coffee. “You think so lowly of us.” Caitlyn grimaces and Viktor points a finger, motioning to wait a second. “Lowly of Vi and Jayce. You two… not so much.” He clears up. Mel and Caitlyn smile but their partners jaws slack open in offense. 

“We didn’t ask anything, actually. She asked us a question.” Vi folds her arms proudly. Jayce hits her. “Dude.” 

“What I thought we were telling him everything.” She whispers. “We are.” Mel sighs. 

“Is she okay?” He suddenly asks, shocking them. The same question you asked. You two were riding similar wavelengths. It was interesting to witness. “She seemed, how do I put this?” Jayce thinks, getting cut off by Vi. “She was a mess dude, mascara ruined. She did not seem happy.” She lies and the three all pinch her. 

She slaps their hands away. Turning to them. “Go with it.” She mouths. 

Turning back around. “She asked if you were okay as well. She’s worried about you. It’s tearing her apart.” Violet pretends to be solemn. The three eventually go along with it, nodding their heads. Viktor was suspicious at first but truly thinking about it and envisioning what they’re saying made his chest ache. 

Seeing you upset and tearing yourself apart over him… He doesn’t like that. “Oh.” He murmurs. “Yeah, well you should talk to her, maybe. I don’t know. We gotta go though we have our afternoon class.” Jayce says with a shrug, pushing the three out in a hurry. “Uh, okay.” Viktor waves awkwardly. 

But now that he’s alone again he has to think about you being upset over him. He fights the urge to text you. Even as much as he wants to… He can’t do it. 

Something was holding him back.

three more chapterssss eeeeeeeeeee. I'm going to try to get one more out today but we will see.

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